


The Concordian Tapes

by starcatcher2149



Category: Original Work
Genre: AU Victorian Steampunk, Action Violence, Alternate Universe, Apocalyptic, Brainwashing, Cellular Development, Death, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Genetic Theories, Genetics, LGBTQ Characters, Language, M/M, Manipulation, Original Female Characters - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Original non-binary characters - Freeform, Post World War 1, President, Racism, Re-Education, Rewritten History, Science Fiction, Scientific Development, Secret Police, Steampunk, United States, Violence, friendships, mutations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2020-06-27 02:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 97,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19781344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcatcher2149/pseuds/starcatcher2149
Summary: When the world is kill or be killed, there are two questions to ask:What is the cost of justifying murder?And are you a killer?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! Welcome to The Concordian Tapes, an original work that I am so proud to finally be putting out into the world.
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.

Primary recorder: Veranda Pillaz

Secondary Recorder: Thomas Fairchell

Primary Editor: Markus Leons

Secondary Editor: Justyne Zachary

  
  
  
  
  
  


NOTE (1): 

Advanced Humans (AD-HUs): the developed Human through access to dormant genetic code [fish, feline, avian]. AD-HUs display modified genetic code and physical appearance. 

The mutations of an AD-HU  _ are not _ inherently weaponized and they present no greater threat level than a human.

Also known as:  _ Nonmunds  _ \- the derogatory term for an AD-HU that was used in Concordia

NOTE (2A): 

The contents of these tapes have been edited for clarity and accessibility and are not direct transcriptions of the given accounts. None of the information within the accounts has been edited or censored.

NOTE (2B): Each recording session was held in a controlled area. Answers were not prompted by any outside influencer. Each recorder is a third party individual selected by The Unities Council.

NOTE (3): 

These tapes were originally intended only as government records, but have been released into the public domain to serve as an account of good faith during this time of transition and integration into the modern era of acceptance and prosperity.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**[This is Veranda Pillaz recording. Identification number 2472316. I want you to take me back to the beginning, Mister Shorey. The date is December twenty-second. Tell me about that day. In your own words. Take me back to everything you felt. No need to rush. Please, take all the time you need.]**

  
  


DECEMBER 22 nd  \- AFTERNOON

I wipe my hands over my face, trying - really trying - to clear the layers of dirt and sweat from my skin. My head falls back against the large keg I’m sitting against in the basement of the  _ Broken Dog Pub  _ in the average sized town of Portside, 6-B on the east coast of Concordia. It isn’t much, but it’s the place I settled and made my home, so I don’t mind it. And the work is good, so who am I to complain?

There’s really only thirty minutes left in my shift, but my body is killing me and standing was making me nauseous. Thankfully, Meredith, my best friend and coworker, agreed to manage the bar for a few minutes so I could collect myself. __

Another minute passes before I feel fully in control of my breathing and no longer feel the need to spill my lunch. I push myself off the dirt floor and dust off the back of my pants, grumbling something about how I will never be dirt-free, and briskly make my way up the rickety wooden stairs into the bustling pub. 

“What took you so long? I was starting to worry.” Meredith’s thickly accented voice calls over the noise of the pub. 

“Sorry, I got caught up in my head. Thinking about what I’m going to eat when I get home. Thanks for handling it up here,” I say as I unhook my white beer-stained apron from the rack to the left of the doorway I came out and tie it around my waist. I find a hand towel on one of the counters and toss it over my shoulder. “Your mugs ready to shelve?” She nods and I start moving clean mugs from their drying rack to the large wooden shelves above the counter. “It didn’t pick up too much, did it?”

Meredith shrugs and pockets a handful of coins from the bar. “Just a big group of dock workers. But I managed. As usual.” She says with a cheeky grin. “Surprised you didn’t hear em. Loud as anythin’.”

I chuckle, “Can’t wait to mop up the trails they leave behind.”

“Oh, Everett, you know it’s never that bad.”

“Not that bad?” I scoff in mock offense. “I’ll let you clean up the puddles of vomit, then.”

She chuckles, “An interesting proposal, but I’m going to have to pass. Besides,” she points a finger towards the entrance where about a dozen burly men and women are pushing their way out of the doors. “They’re leaving already.”

“I love when they only stop in for the mid-day drink.”

“Yeah, I could go for one of those,” she says as one of the patrons at the bar waves her down. She grabs their empty mug and turns to a keg behind her. She opens the tap, fills the glass with a dark brown beer, sets the drink in front of them and turns back to me.“Have you heard about what the sailors found in the water?” She asks, voice dropping dramatically in volume.

I shake my head and take a small step towards her, “No. What are they saying?”

“They’re sayin’ they found a half fish man,” She says.

I snort and fold my arms over my chest, “Please, Meredith. Not this far north.”

“Ev, they seemed so sure.” Her reply comes through gritted teeth.

“They didn’t know what they saw. Mers  _ don’t  _ come this far north. A Mer up here could be exciting, but it’s not possible.”

My voice must have grown too loud, because one of the men asks, “You two talkin’ ‘bout the fish mongrel they found last night?” 

Meredith gives me a pointed look and moves in front of him, “Ya. Did you see it as well?”

The man shakes his head, shaggy hair tossing around his face, “Nah, but one of my sailor buddies did.”

She presses her elbows against the counter and leans forward, “And what did he say it looked like?”

He takes a long gulp from his mug before answering. “He said it ‘ad big, black beady eyes and more scales than skin. All fishy ‘n’ foul. And he said it ‘ad these claws an’ jagged teeth. Like nothin’ he ‘ad ever seen before.”

“Of course he’d never seen it before,” I mutter. “Cause Mers don’t come this far north. It’s too cold. The sea water just went to his head.” I fill a three liter pitcher with beer and lift a middle section of the counter and step out onto the main floor. “I’m going to do rounds.” The small seating area is packed with patrons, but I am able to maneuver from person to person relatively easily; filling mugs upon request. I begin to make my way through the last section of the bar when I stumble over a sack. The last bit of beer splashes from the pitcher onto a towering man sitting in front of me, “Christ, I’m sorry.”

The man slowly - almost comically slow - stands and turns to face me, “That was a new blazer. The finest leather money can buy,” he sneers, beer-scented spit flying in my face. “You’ll be payin’ for a new jacket and my drinks.”

I bring my towel to my face and wipe off the spit, “Give me a moment to get my money and I’ll happily replace the drinks for you.”

He gestures to the apron around my waist, black stained teeth set in a gross snarl. “You’ve got plenty’a coins in that pouch, bitch.” 

“These aren’t mine. Let me get my own coin purse and replace your drinks. Then, we can talk about your jacket.” 

The man starts to reach a meaty hand towards the pouch, “I demand my payment now!” He drunkenly roars.

I jerk away from him before his fingers can latch onto my apron, “I am going to have to ask you to leave this establishment. This doesn’t need to end poorly,” I state, my fingers tightening around the pitcher’s handle.

“Listen here, barboy, you give me what I want -”

I am about to swing my arm up when a loud voice shouts over - and silences - the noise, “Grün! What have I told you about harassing my workers? I don’t want to have to go to the authorities about you.  _ Again. _ ”

Grün, the tall man, makes a sound akin to a growl, “This barboy stole from me.”

I scoff, “ _ I  _ stole from you?”

“You ruined my drinks and my jacket and won’t repay me. That’s stealing!”

I open my mouth to reply, but the voice from before cuts me off, “Everett, he’s not worth it.” Stand - the owner of the bar - says as he steps into view. “Grün, you need to go. This is your last chance before I call for the authorities. They will not be pleased to find you’re starting trouble again.”

Grün sneers, knuckles cracking loudly as he balls his hands into fists, “You’re one lucky bastard.” He snarls at me as he slams a shoulder into my chest and stalks from the pub. 

Stan steps back outside a few moments after Grün had left to make sure he was truly gone, before coming back into the bar. He turns and makes his way towards me, stocky frame effortlessly parting through the sea of people, all of whom have returned to their conversations. He places a firm hand on my shoulder and begins to lead me back to the bar. “Are you alright?” He asks.

I nod and take a deep breath to compose myself before speaking, “Yeah, uh, thanks, Stan. That could’ve gotten really ugly.”

“Grün will never learn. He comes here, gets drunk off his ass, and picks a fight with whoever sets him off first,” Stan says with an annoyed shake of his head.

“I haven’t seen him here before.”

Stan nods, “He’s usually only in here at night, long after you’re gone.”

“Has he ever hurt anyone?”

“No, but let’s just say that it’s a good thing Tommy works nights. Grün’s almost got across the bar to Meredith a few times and, where she could handle herself under normal circumstances, she’s much smaller than him and wouldn’t really be able to take him down.”

“But he never hurt her?”

“Hurt me?” Meredith snorts as she overhears us. “He’s a slow, bumbling idiot who wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on me. Tommy’s just better at communicating with the brainless drunks, so I let him have all the fun.”

I chuckle and sit on a squat stool behind the bar with a shake of my head, “Is there any way to keep him out of here?”

Stan sighs and pours himself a small glass of whiskey from his personal stash that is hidden underneath the back counter, “No. Since he hasn’t hurt anyone the authorities won’t actually do anything. They come here, tell him off, and leave.”

I sigh, “Naturally.”

He kicks back the drink, finishing it off with a loud sigh, “And hiring help is out of the budget. We’ve got to be putting in new taps which, Christ knows, will cost all of, if not more than, what we’ve got. And no one wants to work around the docks anyways. Too many drunks. Too many sailors sticking their heads where they don’t belong. It wouldn’t be worth what little I could pay them,” Stan grumbles bitterly into his empty glass. He sets the glass onto the counter and turns his attention to me, “Everett, would you come down to the storeroom and run stock for me? Then, you’ll be set to go home for the day.”

I nod, “Sounds good.”

“Meredith, are you set up here until Tommy arrives? He should be stepping in within the half hour.”

“Oh, yeah. I would love to keep working Everett’s shift,” she says with a roll of her eyes and a sarcastic tone.

Stan chuckles, “You are my best worker, Meredith. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He is about to turn towards the cellar door when he has another thought. “Oh, and I’ll be sending you two to Market first thing tomorrow morning. If one of you could collect the money and list before you head out that would be great. Alright, come on, Everett.”

I stand and follow Stan down the stairs into the cellar where I had taken my break a few minutes prior. We cross the small, dimly lit room and enter a short, narrow hallway that takes us into a cramped office. There is a desk and set of cabinets along one wall and a table with mounds of paper on the other. Next to the table is an open doorway that leads into the liquor storeroom. And inside the storeroom is a set of steps in the storeroom that lead to a wooden door that lets out into an alleyway. 

“Are you really going to install a new tap system?” I ask as Stan drops into the chair in front of his desk. “We’re going to have to rework other systems if you do.”

Stan opens a drawer full of yellowing papers and money receipts and starts to thumb through them. “We are, unfortunately. The ones we have now are starting to crack and wear thin in places. Updating everything now will save a lot in the long run. We need to keep this place running, remember?” He removes a stack of papers and slaps them on his desk. “Now would you go do stocks? I think we’re almost out of Northeastern Ale and we’re running low on some’a the liquors.” He mutters as he uncaps a pen and begins scratching away on the forms.

I nod and enter the storeroom. Normally, the shelves that line the walls would be full of all varieties of liquor and the floor would be near completely covered by barrels of beer. Now, however, the shelves are less than half full and only two barrels remain. “Stan, we’re going to need a bit more than Northeastern Ale.”

He groans and I hear him throw his pen against the wall in frustration, “For the love of God, what else do we need?” 

I scan the room and list what I don’t see, “Uhh… Backer’s Stout, Jargen and Gorris Stout, Backer’s Malt, Backer’s Whiskey and Bourbon, Hemmen’s Rum, Backdoor Bourbon… oh, and, uh Backdoor Vodka.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me we’re out of everything?” He barks. “And who the hell drank all the liquor! No one that comes through here wants anything but the whiskey! Does no one around here actually check stock when I ask?”

“I dunno, but there’s not any here,” I say, not wanting to admit that it’s usually me who does such a bad job at checking and reporting stock. It’s not my fault I’m always being distracted by other things. My other work is much more important than the amount of vodka in the storeroom.

“Bloody Tommy must’a taken it.” I like that. Stan blaming Tommy means I don’t have to take any blame. “He’s the only bloke I know who wants anything to do with the hard stuff. I’ll have to have a chat with him.” His chair scrapes against the ground and I assume it’s because he needs to pick up his pen. “It’s a good thing we did above average this quarter. We’ll have enough money to stay in the positive after we restock and purchase the copper fixtures.”

“How far in the positive will we be?”

His pen furiously scratches across paper for a few seconds before he replies, “Fifty gold pieces.”

My eyes widen and I stick my head into the office, “Only fifty? You said we were above average! That’s ridiculous. How much did we make this quarter?”

Stan sets down his pen, “Five thousand pieces from the pub.”

I lean against the doorway, “How much from  _ Pradae _ ?”

“Six thousand,” Stan says.

“Only six thousand? Holy shit, I thought we brought in more than that. I worked, what, ten cases this month? And Tommy had a couple, too.”

“We had quite a few stingy customers.”

I run a hand through my hair as I try to process what he had said, “Six thousand coins? Do they really think we’re doing this because it’s a pleasant time? That’s practically doing it for free.”

Stan turns towards me in his chair and smirks, arms folded over his chest as he says bluntly, “You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it.”

I shrug, not wanting to fully admit how much pleasure I get from my job. “I mean, sure I like it and I get the job done, but it’d be even better if the pay was actually good.”

“Wouldn’t everything be?” He says with a chuckle. He unfolds his arms and swivels back to his desk. “Speakin’ of, I have another assignment for you to look over when you’re finished with the stockroom.” 

“Okay.”

He produces an iron key from his pocket and shoves it into the lock on one of the bottom desk drawers, unlocking it with a sharp click. He pulls the drawer open and selects the top manilla folder. “Here’s everythin’ we got about the case. It isn’t much -” He lifts the folder and flaps it around. “- but it’s something. Pick it up before you leave. And if you could sweep the storeroom and make sure the shelves are tidy before you go, that would be great.”

“You got it,” I say and turn back into the storeroom. I tend to the shelves; brushing off dust and excess packaging, and check the remaining bottles to make sure none of them have cracks or broken seals. I grab a broom from off the wall near the door and quickly sweep all the dirt and leftover packaging into a pile. I find the dustpan and kneel before my pile. Once I have everything swept into the pan, I dump it into the large trash bin beside the staircase. 

Seconds later I hear Tommy’s sharp, boyish voice echo down the halls. I didn’t realize he would be here so soon, so hearing his voice surprised me. “Oi, Stan! We got a brawl outside an’ Meredith’s tryna manage it in ‘ere.”

“Jesus Christ!” His pen clatters against the wall again. “I’ll be right up!” He hollers. His chair grinds against the floorboards and his footsteps echo loudly as he races upstairs. 

I do another once over of the floor with the broom before resting it back against the wall. I make my way to Stan’s desk and pick up the folder he had given me. True to his word, there is hardly anything in the file. I open the folder only to glance at the name of my target: Sebastian Paos. “Interesting.” I close the file and head back towards the cellar we came from. I set the file on the bottom stair and I kneel to remove a small chest from behind the steps. I open it and remove a leather satchel. In the satchel is an extra set of clothes, a moderately sized cache of weapons, and a small purse of coins. I never travel without my bag in case I should ever encounter trouble while not on duty. I pick up the envelope, place it into the bag, and secure the flap over the opening. I hurriedly ascend the stairs and keep my head down as I exit the pub. I skirt around the outside of a large group of people surrounding two men being held apart by Stan’s strong arms. Tommy is trying to control the excitement of the onlookers, but he is dwarfed by the burly gang. I want to continue walking and further myself from the situation, but Tommy’s wild eyes meet mine and I realize he is about to lose control of the crowd. I grit my teeth and circle back to push my way through the crowd that is roughly three rows deep. Flailing limbs knock into me and I growl in annoyance. 

“Hey! Hey!” I shout, starting to push people away from each other. “Get outta here! There’s nothing to see!” I deflect a punch with my forearm and drive my knee into the stomach of the attacker. I grip his shoulders and bring my knee up again before slamming him onto the ground. My fingers twist in his shirt and I bring my face close to his, “Tell your friends to get the hell out of here.” He doesn’t respond, so I bring our faces an inch apart. “No one needs to lose any eyes today.” He must catch sight of the knife strapped around my waist because he shrinks away from me and aggressively nods. “Good.” I stand off him and he scampers up from the ground, moving awfully fast for such a large, and grossly drunk man. 

He stumbles through the circle and a few people follow him, followed by a couple more, and, finally, the whole crowd has dispersed. Stan must have brokered an agreement between the two brawling men because they have left as well. 

Tommy runs over to me and claps a hand on my shoulder, “That was terrific, Ev. I would’ve got ‘em eventually, but -”

“But your reflexes are painfully slow and your hand to hand combat is dreadfully undeveloped,” I mutter plainly with a shrug of my shoulders.

Tommy’s face falls and he retracts his hand, “I mean, to put it bluntly, yeah.”

Stan jogs over and flashes me a crooked smile, completely ignoring Tommy’s sullen expression, “Coming to the rescue, as always. They can fight again for all I care, as long as it’s off of our property. Now go on home. Get some rest before the market tomorrow.”

I nod with a broad smile, “I’ll always be here.”

“Well, I hope not  _ always _ ,” he comments with a gentle nod of his head. He turns to Tommy and waves towards the bar. “Let’s get back to work. There are chairs that need to be put back together.” Tommy rolls his eyes and waves a curt goodbye before turning back to the pub. Stan looks back and me and gestures to my satchel, “Good luck with the case. Have a good night.”

“Thanks, Stan. You too.” I turn away from him and head onto a cobblestone path adjacent to a stone barrier that keeps people from falling into the rocky sea cliff below. I run my fingers along the stone, the roughness familiar and effective in quelling the heightened emotions I had felt moments ago. Fighting, especially hand to hand, always brings out the worst in me. At the same time, though, it makes me feel alive. Like I could stop the world with one throw of my fist. 

Now that my heart rate has returned to normal and my chest isn’t so tight when I breathe, I can take a minute to think. To decompress from the day. I sigh and turn my face towards the water, reveling in the crisp air as my thoughts wander to the file in my bag. In the folder could be a case about an Ave or a Felis; papers detailing the crime of their existence. My target could be either species, but I am hoping for a Felis because I haven’t dealt with one of them in a while. Their quickness and elite athletic ability has always made them some of my most difficult opponents and I am particularly up for a challenge. 

I continue along in a daze for another few minutes when I feel something dig across my stomach. I snap my attention into focus and see thick cords of rope stretched across the road in front of me, wrapping a border around everything for nearly a block. My hands tighten around the rope as I lean forward to try and see what’s happening. I don’t see anything around the street or sidewalk and I’m just beginning to think that there is nothing happening when I see men in full suits exiting the towering ship-building school ahead of me. They are dressed in the finest suits, which rules out local police - they’re dressed too nicely to hold such underpaid positions. I squint my eyes, trying to make out the shining badge on their lapels, but they are too far away for me to make out the shape or words on the metal. Then, my attention is pulled to the front double-doors of the building when a tall, slim woman steps onto the stairs. Her black hair is pulled into a long braid down her back and dred settles in my stomach as I instantly recognize her. She’s the President’s Dux. As his military and special forces coordinator she is in charge of every military, tactical, and special forces operation within Concordia. Almost nothing happens without going through her first. And she has so much precision and so much control that no one would ever dare cross her. She walks the streets without an armed guard because, well, she is her own best defense. “My God…” For her to be out here… something has to be seriously wrong. Like terrorist level wrong.

“Dux Amorrett,” one of the men - who I now assume is an Elite, her personally hand-selected team of officers - turns back to her. “We need to be moving.”

She nods silently and gestures towards the ropes, “Take them down.” One of the two men immediately follows the order and begins cutting the rope down. While he does this, her head turns to scan the surrounding area until she finally makes eye contact with me. She holds her stare for an uncomfortably long time, like she’s trying to intimidate me. She then gestures for the second man to come to her and whispers something to him. 

I finally regain my bearings and move to back away just as the man turns from the Dux and begins walking towards me. I am about to turn away when my heel catches on an uneven patch of sidewalk and I stumble to the ground. “You. Up.” He snaps and I push myself back up, hurriedly brushing my hands off on my pants. I meet his cold, impassive eyes and he says, “Dux Amorrett requests your presence.”

“Why?” I ask, not wanting to go in blind.

“The Dux doesn’t need a reason.” Of course he would say that. She really doesn’t, but it would at least be courteous of her to share her reasonings. “Now, come with me.” 

“Not even a please?” My nerves quickly overriding my filter.

“Don’t push your luck,  _ Venat _ ,” he sneers as his hand shoots forward to raise the rope. 

I’m put off by his sneer, but I refrain from making another off-hand comment, deciding that keeping my comments to myself and going quickly and calmly would prevent an unpleasant confrontation. I duck below the rope and follow close behind the man, hands wrapped securely around the strap of my bag. He continues towards the Dux and motions for me to stop a few feet away from her. I stand stiffly, my heart pounding as the Dux exchanges a few more words with him. She leans away from his ear and begins to stride towards me with a coy smile. 

Her golden paisley tailcoat flaps behind her and she raises a gloved hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her confidence is unparalleled. She knows that no one can touch her without the whole of Concordia raining down on them. “Mister Shorey, it is wonderful to see you again. It’s been quite a while.”

I keep my eyes trained passed her head and swallow thickly, “Yes, it has been.” She’s probably one of the only people in the world who could intimidate me. And she knows it. 

“As much as I would love to catch up with you, there is much work to be done. Work I am sure you are curious about.” 

Oh, I am more than a little curious. I want to know what was so important to require a personal visit from the Dux. It has to be incredibly high profile and that’s something I want to be in on. “I may be a little interested.” I have to play this down. She doesn’t like people fawning over her work.

She chuckles and shakes her head, “Oh, I knew you would be.” I finally make eye contact with her, hoping to get some read on what she is about to say. But, her brown eyes remain closed to me. They exude nothing but absolute power and control. She is a woman who knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. “That is why, Mister Shorey, I am ordering you to stay away from the case.”

My brow knits in confusion, “What? What case?”  _ The  _ case. Not  _ this  _ case. I don’t know what she’s talking about.

She smoothly crosses her arms over her chest, “I cannot have you interfering with the case happening here.”

“How am I to know what to avoid? And why would you assume I know anything about this case?” I ask. I would like to say that I am only interested in this case to help stop whatever was bad enough to bring her out here, but I really just want to keep talking to her. Also, I suppose it is fair enough to mention that Stan had just given me a case and I should find out if our work is going to overlap at all, but there’s no way he would give me anything high profile enough to attract the Dux’s attention. But, then, why would she assume I knew anything about the work she is doing? My hands still tighten around the strap across my chest as I contemplate all the reasons for her stopping and interrogating me like this.

She notices the flexing of my fingers and raises an inquisitive eyebrow, “Are you hiding something from me, Mister Shorey? I certainly hope it’s not any information about the case. I will be very disappointed if it is.”

I shake my head, “It’s nothing. I don’t even know what you’re investigating. Besides, I would never be given something to work on that is of your caliber.”

“Well, if you have nothing to hide, then you won’t mind if I take a look in your bag. And, don’t doubt yourself, Mister Shorey. You’re excellent at what you do.”

It’s an oddly placed compliment, but I’m too flattered - and confused, quite frankly - to think anything of it. Her asking to check in my bag sets me on edge, though. “I would mind, actually,” I state. “You have no reason to look inside this bag.” 

She clicks her tongue, any of the positivity that came with her compliment is gone again. She doesn’t need a reason to do anything. There is no privacy when it comes to her. I shouldn’t be pushing against her, but there’s something inside of me that won’t give into her. “Denying my request only makes you seem more suspicious. Don’t turn this incidental meeting into an arrest.”

_ An arrest?  _ I think to myself.  _ Nothing in this bag could be bad enough to even suggest that.  _ “Dux Amorrett -”

She extends a hand towards the satchel, palm up in a manner of request. “I will not ask you again.” Her cold voice sends a shiver down my spine, but I still do not open the bag. “Mister Shorey, you know that I can be mean.” Her comment sends a shiver down my spine. I do remember and I never want to experience that again. I take a shaky breath and my fingers fumble as I unbuckle the flap. She reaches into the satchel and removes the file. She opens it and browses the few papers in the folder. “How did you come across this case?”

“Um, Stan, the head of the 6-B  _ Venats  _ passed it down to me. I haven’t had a chance to read it yet.”

“As I thought.” With a definitive nod, she takes the papers in her hands, drops the folder, and tears the papers down the middle. My jaw drops when she continues to shred the documents. “Here we are.” She pulls the top of my bag open and stuffs the scraps in. “I trust you value your  _ Venat  _ license, yes?”

I gulp and slowly wet my lips, “I do.”

“Then, I trust you will stay away from the case. You will not discuss anything you saw today. And you will keep our conversation to yourself. Yes?”

My breath catches in my throat and I stare blankly at her for a moment. She clears her throat and my attention snaps to her piercing eyes. “Yes,” I exhale. 

She falsely smiles and straightens her waistcoat, “Thank you, Mister Shorey. I do hope I will  _ not _ be seeing you soon. Continue your other work, but let this one go. It is not for you.” 

I watch dumbly as she turns and strides away from me. The two men flank her sides and they walk for a bit before entering a car and driving off. My wits finally return once they’ve gone, and all I want to do is race to the pub and tell Stan what had happened. Had it not been for the Dux’s warning I would have been back at the pub in five minutes. But, I continue to my apartment. I have probably angered her enough for one day. Besides, her warning would scare away some of the strongest willed people. Right now, I need to sit and think about what happened before doing anything. At the end of the day, I have to listen to the Dux. Even if I don’t work this case, I need to know what she’s keeping from me. She said I was excellent at the work that I do, so that has to mean something. I don’t know what, but it means something. 

I scuff a foot against the ground and sigh as I start walking forward, muttering to myself, “It’s probably a Mer. Just stay away from it. Don’t even think about it. That will only get you into trouble.” I shove my hands into my trouser pockets and raise my chin so I can at least appear to have my wits about me.  _ But if it’s a Mer, why would Stan give me the case?  _ I think to myself.  _ He knows better than to do that. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not dumb. _

Dirt and pebbles kick up under my feet when I finally turn onto the alleyway beside my three floor apartment complex. I pull a chain with several keys hanging on it from my bag and use one of them to unlock a heavy wooden door that leads to a dimly-lit staircase. I lock the door behind me and turn to skip up three flights of stairs; passing by two landings with hallways leading off to apartments. I come to the last landing and head to the last door to my left. A light bulb flickers above me as I find the right key to unlock my room. I have to force the key into the lock, but a sharp turn pulls back the bolt and I open the door. 

A dark room meets me as I push open the door and turn to immediately re-lock it. The curtains are drawn over every window and no lights are turned on, so an uneasy air has settled over the space. I step forward and wave my right hand through the air until a freezing metal chain smacks into the back of my hand. I grasp the chain and give it a sharp tug which clicks on the light above me. I toe off my boots and quickly survey the room. Satisfied with the perpetually messy - but always organized exactly how it should be - state of my apartment, I walk into the empty space in front of my stove and dump my bag onto the ground. I turn on the faucet in the sink beside the stove and pour myself a glass of water before flipping the water off and plunking down next to my bag. The wood is cold against my ass and there is a cold air floating through the entire room, but I am too consumed with the shreds of paper in my bag to pay the temperature much mind.

I finish off half my water before I set the glass aside and pull the bag into my lap. I stare at the contents in defeat for a moment before dumping the bits onto the floor in front of me. I toss the bag aside and readjust my position so I am kneeling over the scraps. I spread them out and side back on my heels to take in what information I can. “Spanish,” I mutter. “Okay. I can work with that.” I find a piece with the offender’s name on it. “Sebastian Paos. What did you do?” 

Unfortunately, his name is about all I can determine. The ink is almost completely faded, so even if the papers were intact, I probably would not have discovered much. “How convenient,” I grunt, thoroughly unsatisfied with my lack of progress. I finally give up and pile the shreds into a waste bin. There are too many bits missing. 

I leave my bag and glass on the ground and make my way to my bathroom. I start unbuttoning my soiled shirt when my mood turns sour. “Of course the Dux would want all the credit for this.  _ VenatPradae _ already bends over backwards for her!” I hiss as I strip off my shirt and shove my pants to the floor once I’m standing before the shower. “Does she not understand how desperately people need these jobs? And it’s not like she needs to bolster her name any further!” Though I idolize her and would do close to anything to get myself into her good graces, sometimes she takes things a little too far. I turn the handle on the wall and water begins to fall from the shower head. I remove my socks and undergarments and step into the spray. I pull the opaque shower door closed and groan. “Does she not think I am good enough to handle such a high profile case? She’s seen what I can do. She even  _ admitted  _ that I’m excellent at what I do.” I sneer as I rake my hands through my hair. I continue my shower in bitter silence, no words able to express the anger I feel. 

Ten minutes later I shut the water off and grab a wrinkled towel from a low hanging shelf. I dry off my top half, then secure the towel around my waist. I run my hands over my face and tiredly shuffle to my bed, exhaustion catching up to me. I swipe a pair of pyjama pants off the ground and slide them on before slumping into bed. 

  
  


⧕ ⧕ ⧕

_ “Faster, Everett! Keep your arms closer to your body!” Stan’s voice echoes through the cavernous training space I am running laps in.  _

_ Sweat drips into my face and soaks through the waistband of my shorts. I want to stop and get water, but I have yet to reach Stan’s fifty lap quota; equating to nearly five and a half miles. “Come on, I’ve seen you sprint faster than that!” My legs feel like lead and vomit is ready to spew from my mouth at any time. “That’s thirty-five! Don’t clench your fists! Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth! Come on! Come on! Come on!” _


	3. Chapter 3

**DECEMBER 23rd - DAWN**

“Come on! Come on, Everett. We’re already running late,” Meredith’s voice blends into the fading images in my dream. A dream that felt more like a memory. A memory I don’t exactly remember experiencing.

I sit up and wipe the back of my palm across my sweaty forehead. I quickly get my breathing under control and push the blankets to the foot of the bed. I swing my legs off the bed and stand, hissing as the freezing floor stings my bare feet. I walk out of my bedroom and cross the small living area to my front door. I unlock the door and open it while stifling a yawn, “Morning, Meredith.”

Meredith raises an eyebrow and rests her hands on her hips, “Well, you look like shit. Rough night?” 

I shrug, “You could say that.” I cover another yawn and say, “Let me get dressed, then we can go.” I turn back to my bedroom and stop in front of the dresser to the right of my bed. I open a series of drawers and select clothes for the day. “Did Stan give you the money?” I call over my shoulder.

I hear the floorboards creak as she enters the living room and the door thuds as she closes it. “He did.” There’s a jangling of coins. “I made him count it four times to make sure I had the right amount. Nothing worse than going to market only to find you don’t have the right amount.”

“I’m with you on that one,” I say, buttoning a black vest over the white button down I had tucked into black pants. I buckle my belt around my waist and slip three knives into the leather sheaths around the back of the belt. I sit on my bed to shove my feet into low rise leather boots. I tie them as I ask, “And you have the list?”

“I do. We’ve basically got the whole stock on here.” 

“I know. The stockroom was practically empty yesterday. Tommy’s probably been guzzling all the liquor with his buddies,” I state as I wrap a maroon scarf around my neck. I shrug a tailored overcoat onto my shoulders and check the hidden pocket on the inside fabric where a six-inch dagger is hidden in a leather-lined pocket. I button the overcoat and step out into the other room. 

Meredith is perched on the arm of my couch, rebraiding her vibrant red hair. “Took you long enough,” she says without turning to look at me. She twists an elastic around the end of her braid and stands. 

“Shall we be off then?” I ask.

“Well, we certainly haven’t got all day,” she comments with an eye roll, 

“You could have stopped by sooner.”

“You could have stopped by sooner,” she repeats mockingly. She laughs and shakes her head, “Stan wants us back by ten, so we’ll just have to make up time at the market.” 

I check the clock on a table by the door and see it is five thirty-five. “This will have to be the fastest trip to the market in the history of market trips.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine.” 

I usher her out the door and lock it behind us, “You have a lot of faith.” 

She shrugs and we start to the stairs, “I also know that I’ll be able to keep you from getting too distracted. It takes forever when Stan sends you out on your own. I don’t know why it took him so long to send me with you.”

“I am not that bad!” I defend myself with mock offense.

“The first time we went together, you wandered around for three hours before buying anything.”

I unlock and push the door to the building open and let her come out before shutting and locking it again. “I was looking for the best deals.”

She laughs. “We were in the fine art section. We had no need for blown glass.” 

My cheeks flush, “I thought the pub could’ve used a little decoration.”

She snorts, “Decoration that would have shattered seconds after you brought it in.” We exit the alleyway and turn onto the main road. As our leather soled shoes slap against the cobblestones and the air around Meredith shifts. Her shoulders square and she raises her chin, “Everett, what you said about Tommy.” She sighs, “You need to give him a break. You’re really hard on him.”

“He’s got such an attitude, though. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences.” I sigh, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. That’s a reasonable answer to me. He should be held to the same standards as me and Meredith. “And always going behind Stan’s back? I can’t trust him when he does that.”

“He’s just a bit reckless. He’s young. Still trying to figure things out.”

I scoff, “A little reckless? That ‘little bit of recklessness’ almost killed you last month! He couldn’t contain a case and that put all of us in danger.”

“Yes, and I’ve forgiven him. So, shove off, Ev. We all make mistakes.”

“He’s been with us for almost five years. The time for making life-threatening mistakes is over.”

“And you’re so perfect?” 

My eyebrows pull together in annoyance. “I never said that.”

She shakes her head, “If you say so.”

I stop and look over at her, “What does that mean?”

Meredith continues on for a few steps before turning on her heel to face me, “You’ve been on this high, golden throne ever since you trained with the Dux. You think you’re better than all of us because she held your hand for a few weeks.”

“Months,” I correct. “And she didn’t hold my hand. That’s ridiculous.”

“Whatever.” She crosses her arms and her eyes bore into mine. “My point is that Tommy and I are tired of your shit. Stan may think you’re a god, but he’s not being berated by you.”

“I thought I was helping.”

“Helping is trying to build people up when they make mistakes. Give them a slap on the wrist, but move forward. You tear Tommy down like he’s garbage and I’m tired of it. So, take a step back and remember that the Dux rejected you.”

I set my jaw and my teeth grind together painfully. That was a low blow and Meredith knew it. Her shoulders drop and I see the anger fade from her eyes. 

We stare at each other in silence for a while before Meredith finally says, “I’ve wanted to say that for a long time.”

The tension in my jaw releases and I lower my gaze. “I’m sorry,” I mutter.

A satisfied grin cracks onto her face, “What was that?”

I sigh, annoyed that she is continuing this. But, I say it again so we can continue our day, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you actually going to try and change or are you just apologizing to put all this behind you?”

My fists clench in my pockets and I fight the urge to snap at her that I really don’t give a shit how they feel. I’m not a nanny and I don’t like being around liabilities. “I’ll try and do better.”

“Really?”

I want to slam my head against something, but I force a shrug and a grin as I give in to her, “Yes. I will really try.” Saying that was almost worse than torture.

“Good.” She uncrosses her arms and jerks her head to the road behind her. “Let’s keep going.”

“Sure.” I unclench my fists and step forward to fall line next to her. 

There’s about half a foot of space between us as we carry on down the main road for another ten minutes. Then, we make a left onto Barkley Park and are immediately overwhelmed by a myriad of smells and sounds. Despite the early hour, the stalls on either side of the street are bustling with customers and some people are already leaving with full bags in carts or around their wrists. 

“Does Stan want anything that isn’t liquor?” I ask, finally breaking the silence between us.

She digs into a pocket and produces the list Stan gave her, “Um, yes.” She extends her arm so I can see the list, “Potatoes, a couple of sacks of large rolls, rags for the bar. The rest is all liquor. This is going to be an exhausting trip. Even with carts, getting this all back will take hours.”

“Hopefully we can find someone to lend a hand. There’s always someone needing to make a little coin,” I say as we continue down the street; slipping between masses of people while keeping our eyes open for the stalls we need. We search for the rags first, as the linen stalls usually precede the others. A few more feet and I point to a stall on our right, “There are the rags. It looks like Mistress Jenn is having a sale on them. Hopefully, she has some stock left.” 

“It is busier than I expected. Everyone must want to get their shopping in before the weather turns.”

We redirect towards the stall and I ask, “When should that happen?” 

“Hopefully not until this afternoon. I did hear someone say late morning, though. We’ll just have to beat it.” Meredith says with a shrug.

“Did Stan say how many rags to get?”

She quickly references the list again and shakes her head, “No. Probably at least a dozen. You know how fast we go through them.”

“Oh, I know,” I mutter dryly. There is no line before the stall, so we are able to step right up to the counter. Upon seeing Mistress Jenn the stall-keeper my face brightens and I smile sincerely, “Morning, Mistress Jenn.”

The young woman looks up from her record books with a smile, “Morning, Mister Shorey,” She smiles at Meredith, “Miss Kelly. What can I do for you on this chilly morning?”

“We’re looking to buy some of those rags you have on sale. Four rags for three silvers is a great deal,” Meredith says as she fishes the coin purse from her pocket.

Mistress Jenn nods, “Of course. How many can I get for you?”

“We were hoping for twelve,” Meredith replies, her eyes dropped as she fishes out nine silver coins.

“I do. My last dozen, in fact.” Mistress Jenn turns to the table behind her and removes a satchel of cloth rags. 

“Are you going out of business?” I ask, confused as to why she would have such little stock - especially considering the sale she was running. 

Mistress Jenn places the satchel in front of us and pulls her silvery blonde hair off her shoulders with a sigh. She motions for me to lean in closer to her, “Gwendolyn and I are moving home.”

My eyebrows raise slightly and I lower my voice, “Back to the Northern European Federation?” Well, there goes the one real friend I have in 6-B. It was bound to happen eventually, I suppose.

“It hurts me to say, but we cannot live here anymore. The government just… they cannot keep us safe anymore. There have been more sightings and incidents with every new day. It’s only a matter of time before we go to war or… or something. We cannot hope to raise children here.”

“But, surely this will follow you there?” I say. “You know that they live all around the world.”

“But they aren’t violent anywhere else. The rest of the world is at peace with them.” Mistress Jenn states with a sigh. 

“Aren’t you afraid of raising children around them? At least here you have the assurance that we have the situation under control.”

“You know better than anyone that _Nonmunds_ don’t attack unless they are provoked. As long as we keep our distance and are perfectly civil, then we should never have a problem. That’s what this government doesn’t understand and that’s why we need to leave. The situation can only be under control for so long.” She leans back and pulls a smile onto her face, but her eyes are still heavy with sadness and regret, “Will that be it for you?”

Meredith stiffly hands Mistress Jenn the coins, “Yes.” Mistress Jenn accepts the coins and Meredith silently grabs the sack off the counter.

“Thank you. Have a safe journey home.” Meredith’s voice is laced with resentment. 

She turns away from the stall, but I linger for a minute longer. “Jenn…”

“I know, Everett. If things were getting better we would stay.”

“But, they are. I promise they are.”

“Convince me as you might, but Gwendolyn won’t budge. She wants a child, we both do, but she -”

“Won’t raise one here,” I finish, my shoulders sagging. I lean forward and take her hands in mine. Her calloused fingertips are rough against my palms and I give her hands a gentle squeeze. “Write to me, okay? You don’t know how much I’m going to miss you.”

Jenn raises her chin to meet my eyes, her lips pressed in a somber line. “Maybe you’ll come to visit us.” It isn’t a question. “A letter couldn’t do your stories justice.” Tears cloud her pale blue eyes. She’s trying to lighten the mood but is only succeeding in upsetting herself further. 

“Thank you, Jenn, for everything you’ve given me. I never would have made it without you.”

She chuckles, the sound choked and lacking its usual mirth. “You would have figured it out eventually.”

“Everett!” Meredith’s sharp voice cuts off my next response. I look over my shoulder to see a back of rolls hanging from her wrist and a large load of potatoes supported on her hip. I hadn’t even noticed that she had wandered off to make more purchases. “We have to keep moving.”

“Um, one more minute.” She rolls her eyes but stays silent as I return my attention to Jenn. “When are you leaving?”

“Six o’clock on the twenty-fourth.”

I swallow thickly. That’s so soon. “I’ll try and catch you again before you leave. Say a proper goodbye.”

“I would like that. I’m sure Gwen would love to see you, as well.” She shifts her hands to wrap her fingers around mine. “Now, go on,” she squeezes gently. “You have other business to attend to.”

“What am I supposed to do without you?”

She smiles softly, “Grow.” She releases my hands. “Goodbye, Everett. For now.”

I nod, “Yes, uh, goodbye. For now.” I give her one last smile before turning to Meredith. “We can go now,” I say with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sad to see her go,” Meredith comments as we start deeper into the crowd and towards the towering warehouse at the heart of the market.

I shake my head, “You’re probably happy to see her go. I know you weren’t exactly fond of her ideals.” 

Meredith hikes the sack higher onto her waist and she shakes her head at my offer to take the load. “I just, I don’t understand how you can be friends with someone who thinks like that.”

“Meredith, she’s only speaking her mind,” I say with a shrug. “She’s entitled to her opinion.”

She snorts, “Yea, but the opinion she’s got isn’t a good one. Who does she think she is talking about Concordia like that? And not protecting them? We bust our asses every single day, so she can run her stall and go home safe to her girl.” 

“Meredith, not everyone is privy to what happens behind closed doors. They couldn’t possibly know how much good we are doing. And she’s done a lot of good for me. She can get away with one questionable opinion.”

“I know, but she should be thankful for what we’ve given her.” 

“I know, Meredith, and everyone will know soon enough. But, for now, we need to buy liquor.” 

Meredith nods and we continue towards the warehouse in silence. Our earlier argument set us on edge and I’m too preoccupied with Jenn’s announcement to make any small talk. I knew Jenn had some unfortunate opinions about Concordia, but I never thought they would be enough to drive her from the country. And her linen stall was just starting to take off, too. But, as sudden as it is, I wish her the world. She’s one of my closest friends who helped me through my darkest times, and she’s got more heart in her than 6-B can handle. I respect her and respect her decision. 

“Everett, get your head out of the clouds.” Meredith’s voice is almost lost among another hundred as the doors to the warehouse open and we are swept into the commotion. 

One broad sweep over the cavernous space confirms that nothing has changed since my last visit. The walls are still ominously grey and the room is still packed end to end with stalls selling anything from liquor to children’s clothing. And the early morning sun is already blazing against the poorly planned metal roof, causing the room temperature to rise to a nearly intolerable degree. We grab two carts from the crowd of them to our right and start plowing our way through shoppers. 

⌭ ⌭ ⌭

Three hours pass before we finally trudge out the back door of The Warehouse. Sweat slides down my face and back, and I regret not wearing socks as my feet slip in my shoes. Meredith slouches behind me, her feet dragging as she leads a young teenager pushing our second cart. She adjusts the sacks of rolls and rags over her shoulder and grunts as she forces the potatoes higher onto her waist. She exhales loudly and mutters something profane as she increases her speed and moves ahead of me. Her irritation with me had only grown as she claimed shopping with me was like “babysitting a child”. I shake my head in an attempt to dispel these distracting thoughts, but they continue to linger in the back of my mind. 

With Meredith several feet in front of me, I slow my pace to fall beside the other cart. I look over to the person pushing and say, “Thank you for your help. We would never have made it without a second set of hands.”

“It’s no problem at all. My day at the market was ending, and I live your way, anyway.” He replies with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re positive I can’t pay you for your help?”

He shakes his head, bangs flopping against his brow, “It’s no trouble at all. And I never could have said no to your friend.”

I huff, “Yeah, Meredith is impossible to say no to.” My words come off a bit harsher than I had intended, but it’s not like I don’t mean them.

“Have you been with her for a long time?”

The question catches me off guard. I wasn’t ready to discuss our relationship with a stranger. “Been with her? What do you mean?” 

“Are you seeing her? Is she your girlfriend?”

“Oh, no. Meredith and I are definitely not dating,” I say with a definite shake of my head. 

He quickly glances over at me and I catch a frown on his face, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“No, it’s fine,” I comment before running my tongue across my lips. He couldn’t have known our earlier predicament, so it was unfair of me to snap at him. Instead of allowing a painful silence to continue, I redirect the conversation, “You know, I haven’t seen you in The Warehouse before. Did you just start?”

His face relaxes and I can tell he’s as relieved as I am that the conversation has changed. “Well, yes and no. I worked at a stall when I was younger, but I spent the past few years away.”

“Were you traveling?”

“I was.”

“Outside of Concordia?”

“No. I don’t have the money for that kind of travel.” 

I nod, “So, what made you return? Had to be pretty big to bring you back to this boring city.”

“I have family here. Many of them are older, so I am helping to look after them. And I needed a little time to collect myself, anyway. I spent a lot of time in the south and that was exhausting.” 

I chuckle, “That sounds about right. I’ve never been a fan of the heat.”

We fall silent, as the initial pleasantries of meeting are completed. I adjust my grip on the cart handle, the metal bar uncomfortably slick my palms. The winter air whips against my fiery skin, freezing sweat in its place, and I narrow my eyes as snow flies against me. My tongue runs along cracked lips and I ignore the stinging that follows. I open my eyes a bit more and look around for Meredith after I don’t hear from her for several minutes. My brow pulls together when I don’t even see her silhouette. When had she gotten so far in front of me?

“Did you see where Meredith went?” I ask the young man. 

He thinks for a moment, “No. Maybe she stepped into an alley to catch her breath?”

I come to a stop and shake my head, “She would never have gone off without telling me.”

“Do you not trust her on her own?” He asks as he comes to a stop next to me.

“I do.”

“Then why worry?”

“The weather’s turning sooner than it was supposed to. It isn’t safe for anyone on their own,” I explain.

“She seemed bundled enough. And there’s plenty of places she could stay until the snow passes.”

“Listen… Ari, was it?” He nods. “Okay, Ari, it’s not really the weather that worries me.”

“What else threatens her?”

“Have you been away and stuck in your head for so long?”

Ari gulps, his neck flexing uncomfortably, “What? I don’t understand.”

“There are dangerous creatures living in Concordia, Ari. Surely you have to remember that. Even if you went somewhere that has a low _Nonmund_ population, you wouldn’t have gotten away from them completely. And you know that they take advantage of people that are alone in times like this.”

His lips part, confusion and fear muddling his expression, “I know they exist but, how… how you do know they’re all dangerous? I’ve never encountered a dangerous one.”

“Just because you’ve never met one doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Have you ever tried to talk to one of them?”

My eyes narrow in suspicion, “Why would I do that? I know what they’re capable of.”

“One bad experience doesn’t define a whole group of people.”

“They are not _people_ ,” I sneer. “Why are you defending them?”

“Why are you condemning them?” He bites back. My heart sinks when his eyes suddenly flash a vibrant color that I almost miss in the blizzarding snow. 

“And here I thought you were a good kid.” I scan the area around us, making sure there will be no witnesses. In an instant, I remove a dagger from the lining of my coat pocket, race forward, and stab it through the side of his neck. A sickening grin as the blade cuts through muscles and his carotid artery. “If only you had kept quiet.” I rip the blade from his neck and watch as his body drops to the ground, blood spurting from the wound and pooling around his head. “How unfortunate,” I mutter. I kneel down to wipe the blade in a newly formed pile of snow before returning the dagger to its leather sheath. “Who is supposed to help me with the carts?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr @clkaravis for updates and other fun world building, side work regarding this book! I would love to hear from all of you. Criticism is wildly appreciated because I am always looking for ways to improve! Thank you!

**DECEMBER 23rd - EVENING**

After awkwardly pulling and pushing the carts for an extra hour or two, I finally roll carts into the alley behind the pub. A biting wind replaced the snow and I had begun to regret killing my companion so suddenly. But, at the end of the day, I know I made the correct decision. Someone of his… status could not have been allowed to come all the way to the pub with me. It would have been disastrous if he discovered our base of operation, and  _ VenatPradae _ would have had my license for sure. And that would be the most dishonorable of ways to be discharged from the organization. How embarrassing would that have been?

I unclench my fingers from the cart handles and lean over to pound a fist against the stock door. “Come on, Stan.” My teeth chatter with every word. I slam my fist on the door again, “Tommy!” I shout. I throw my fist forward again, but the door opens before I make contact. “Thank God, Tommy.”  _ Finally, he’s where I actually need him to be _ , I think to myself.

“‘Ow long you been out’ere?” Tommy asks. 

I fight the urge to roll my eyes, “Long enough. Could you help me bring these carts in?”

“Yea.” He props the door open with a nearby brick and walks around one of the carts. “You get ‘em ‘ere all by yourself?” I nod. “You mean Meredith didn’t even ‘elp ya?”

“She had her own load to carry.”

“When’d you leave the ware’ouse?”

“Two hours. Maybe more.”

He turns his head sharply towards me, eyes wide in surprise, “Two hours?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“If you been comin’ for that long, then where’s Meredith?” 

My brown pulls together and I frown, “She isn’t here?”

“She ain’t.”

I watch, mouth wide, as Tommy pushes his cart up to the stockroom door and starts unloading crates into the room, “You sure she isn’t here?” I call into him.

“I’ve been up at the bar alone fa seven bloody hours, Everett. I woulda known if she came back.”

“I can’t believe she isn’t back.”

“‘Ow did you get split up?”

“She got a bit ahead of me and then we lost each other when the weather turned.”

He reappears in the doorway, “Then, who ‘elped ya with the second cart? No way you got it ‘ere all by yourself.”

“Someone helped me for a while, but I pushed them both the rest of the way. That’s why it took so long.”

“What ‘appened to ‘em?” 

I casually shrug my shoulders, “We had a bit of a disagreement.”

“Did this disagreement end with a knife to the neck?”

I step forward and help him unload the first cart. His accusatory tone is grating on my nerves. It’s not my fault Meredith and I were separated, “It might have.”

“You really do get all the action, don’t ya?” Tommy’s voice is slightly mocking. 

I lug a crate down the stairs and set it down with a loud grunt, “You too?” 

“Me too, what?”

“You think I have all this responsibility that I don’t have.”

Tommy laughs as he loudly drops a crate next to mine, “You think you don’t ‘ave responsibility?”

I shake my head, “I know I  _ have  _ responsibility, but I don’t have any more than you or Meredith.”

He crosses his arms tightly over his chest and cocks a disbelieving eyebrow, “Well, you certainly got more than Meredith. She hardly ever leaves ‘ere. That’s probably why she ain’t back yet. Wanted to savor ‘er freedom.”

“She could just ask to be put on cases,” I say as I start back to the cart.

“You don’t think she does? Stan waits for you even if she’s a better fit for the case.”

I sigh, my irritation growing, “I don’t understand. I am not much better than either of you.”

“Ev -”

“Where is he?” Stan’s rough voice echoes through the empty storeroom. 

Assuming he means me, I call back, “Stan? What is it?” 

“How could you leave Meredith?” He shouts as he storms towards me. 

“We were separated. I tried to find her, but -” 

“She came into the pub frozen! She can hardly speak.” He pushes Tommy out of the way and stomps up the stairs to force himself into my space, “Why did you abandon her?”

I raise my hands and take a small step back, “When we left the warehouse she got ahead of me because she wasn’t pushing a cart. Then, the storm started and I lost her.”

“You didn’t try to find her?”

“I thought she was fine to get back on her own. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself. And,” my jaw tenses, “Something else came up.”

“What the hell could have come up that was more important than finding her?”

My eyes narrow as I begin my explanation, “We enlisted a merchant boy to push the second cart, but he turned out to be a  _ Nonmund.  _ I had to take care of him before he was able to make it back here.”

“Wait,” Tommy interrupts with a cruel laugh. “You lost Meredith to kill a  _ Nonmund _ ? I’d drop a lotta things to kill one, but I’d neva’ lose one of us…”

“We had been separated for a while. I thought she had made it here already,” I bite back.

Stan sighs, “Everett.” 

My eyes snap to him, “What?”

“What was the  _ Nonmund _ ?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure?” Stan’s eyebrows raise.

“His eyes flashed too quick. I didn’t get a good look at them.”

“You need to tell me what color the eyes were. Focus on what you saw.”

I don’t know why he’s so worried and I want to fight his instruction, but I finally close my eyes and think back to the moment just before I killed him. I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to focus the memory. I see his eyes flash and my shoulders drop. “No… no, I didn’t know.”

“What color?” Stan sneers.

“Purple.” The word is hardly audible.  _ Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot.  _

“Jesus Christ!” Stan’s composure shatters and he slams a booted foot into one of the crates, knocking it over and causing several thick glass bottles to roll across the ground. “Don’t you ever think?”

“Stan, I -”

“You don’t think! What does the Dux say about killing Mers?”

I swallow thickly, guiltily avoiding his eyes, “She’s… she’s the only one… who - who can kill them.”

Stan threads his fingers through his dark hair, breathing loudly through his nose to try and calm himself, “If she finds this was you -”

“I know.”

“No, Everett, you don’t know.”

Tommy slips from the room, muttering something about checking on Meredith. 

Silence gnaws at my bones. 

“She will hunt you down and she will kill you. She will gut you. She will rip you to pieces. Then, she’ll do the same to  _ VenatPradae _ . She’ll ruin all of us. And who’s fault will it have been?”

“Mine,” I choke out, shame reddening my face. I clench my fists to try and keep them from shaking.

“Everett,” Stan’s voice is barely above a whisper. “You need to leave.”

“Stan…” 

“No. I understand you made a mistake - we all have, but you put us in danger by remaining here.”

“The Dux doesn’t need to know -”

“She will find out. You can’t hide something like this from her. As soon as the body is discovered, she will know,” Stan grinds out, his jaw tense. “And I cannot risk Meredith or Tommy.”

“But you can risk me?” I snap, finally meeting his gaze. Fist to put me on the front lines and first to put me on the streets. How poetic.

“You can protect yourself. You know how to hide, how to survive.”

“I mean, sure I can, but where am I supposed to go? My whole life is here!” Not really. Jenn is leaving and Meredith hates me, so all I have left here is a job and a place to live.

“File for independence from VenatPradae. You’ll retain your license, but you won’t be connected to any main hub. That will give you the ability to move freely,” Stan explains. “Maybe you should even leave Concordia.”

“Leave Concordia? Stan, I’m not a coward.”

“You’re not an idiot, either.” He brings up a hand as though he was going to step forward and comfort me, but he quickly drops it.”I just… I need you to go.”

My lip curls disdainfully, “What will you do without me? From what I have gathered, I am the only one getting cases.” 

“Tommy is ready to step up.”

“Tommy is going to get eaten alive.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“Why are you acting like this is easy for me?” He barks, voice tight with anger. “You’re one of the best  _ Venats  _ I’ve ever worked with. I’ll never be able to replace you. But, I can’t… I can’t risk everything for you. I’m sorry.”

I raise my chin, and narrow my eyes, not wanting to let him see the pain in them. “That’s it, then?” 

Stan’s body remains impassive, but his eyes betray sympathy, “I need to think about what is best for all of us.”

“Right.  _ All _ of us,” I hiss, my tone cold. 

“You need to get to Section 1-A to declare your independence.”

“So, you’re just going to dump me on the street?”

“Get going.”

I descend the stairs and bring my face inches from his, “You’re a monster, Stanislaus.”

His shoulders drop slightly, “Aren’t we all?”

“Let me gather my things.”

“Five minutes.”

I push past him, my shoulder connecting forcefully with his. I move about the basement of the pub and stop under the staircase. I kneel in front of the familiar trunk, my hands running over the weathered wood. I open the trunk and remove the contents: three dagger sets, a shirt, pants, boots, a massive canvas satchel, two winter hats, a pair of leather gloves, a dozen darts with a blowgun to match, and a purse of gold coins I had set aside. I open the satchel and fill it with assorted items. I think that I’ll have to stop by my apartment to gather a few more things before I go. 

My fingers dance over the blow darts that Stan had given to me as a gift. I fight the urge to snap them to pieces; anger boiling in my stomach. “Protect all of us,” I sneer. I flick my wrist and the darts fall back into the chest to act as a reminder of my time here. “How touching.”

I close the satchel, sling it over my shoulders, and rise to my feet. I ascend the stairs and exit through the pub, not wanting to confront Stan again. I train my attention ahead, emotions masked beneath a blank stare. Several patrons holler after me and Meredith’s voice nearly shatters my façade. I throw the door to the pub open and leave for the last time. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a sort of three-for-one because it was a bunch of short snippets all coming together for this chapter. As always, any criticism is welcome and feel free to check out my tumblr @clkaravis for updates and other fun insight into this story!

**DECEMBER 23rd - NIGHT**

I stop at my apartment to gather a few sets of clothes and the rest of my savings before heading for the train station. I leave my other personal items behind.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**DECEMBER 24th - EARLY MORNING**

A train whistle sounds and I rise from the bench I am perched on. I clutch my ticket, not wanting the howling wind to take it from me. An uncomfortable weight has settled in my stomach as I think about how I leave everything behind the moment the train departs. My home. My comfort. My status. _No,_ I think. _Stan’s already stripped those away from you._ I raise my chin and enter one of the many passenger cars. I pass through the aisle, searching for a spot that is more secluded than the others, and find a place towards the back of the car; only a sleeping form in the seat before mine. I slide onto the thinly padded bench and rest my bag on the space beside me as I wait for the conductor to come check my ticket. I straighten my jacket over my chest and cross my legs, shifting slightly to make myself comfortable. The conductor enters the car and I present my ticket when asked. The ticket is returned to my hand with the station’s stamp pressed into it and I tuck it back into my pocket. 

Another whistle signals our departure and the locomotive screeches to life. Stone walls are soon replaced by spans of dry fields and a smattering of houses and shops.

After surveying the other passengers in the car and determining that they pose no threat to me, I nod off. 

  
  
  
  
  


**DECEMBER 24th - AFTERNOON**

A grinding of wheels jolts me awake. I uncross my legs and straighten my body, hands readily poised on my knees in an attack position. I must be ready in case this is an emergency stop and there ends up being trouble. I cautiously lean forward and ask the person seated in front of me who is now sitting completely upright and very awake, “Do you know what happened?”

“Why should I?” A hushed, bitter voice snaps back. 

I flinch at the tone, but know that I would probably have reacted in the same way if some stranger started asking me questions. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to be rude. I only hoped you saw something.”

I bite back a sound of surprise when the person turns and reveals cloudy grey eyes, “Don’t be cruel, now.” 

“I didn’t realize…” My voice fades, excuses dying on my lips. 

The passenger’s face remains stoic, but the air about them shifts. They release the tension in their shoulders and their face softens, “No, I’m sorry. You had no way of knowing.”

I release a sigh, “Apologies accepted all around?”

“Yes.” They adjust themselves so they’re almost fully turned around, “And, before you ask, my blindness is documented. No need to check my papers.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on it,” I say. The Concordian policy regarding the documentation of disabilities honestly makes me uncomfortable. These people shouldn’t have to prove their struggle just to make everyone else feel better. 

They snort, “Really? You sound the type. All proud and full of yourself.”

“I guess I’m in a… similar line of industry.”

“Then what do you do?”

“Why should you be privy to that?”

They crack a cheeky grin, “Not like I can tell anyone who you are.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I retort.

“And why should  _ you _ be privy to that?”

I chuckle, “That’s only fair.” Their calmness relaxes me and I no longer feel like all the air has been sucked out of the compartment. 

Silence returns and I settle back into my seat. The train has resumed its course, and miles of flat land race past; seconds bleeding into minutes. 

“Nur Udjang.” 

My attention snaps to the bench in front of me, “What?”

“My name. Nur Udjang.” The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it to anyone that I know. 

“Everett Shorey,” I say, surprised that I disclosed my first and last name so soon. I usually wait until at least the second meeting. “So, are you from around here?”

They shake their head, “I’m not.”

“Different Section, or a different country?”

“Both, I suppose. I’ve spent most of my life in 1-A. Before that, I lived in the Middle Eastern Federation.”

Suddenly, realization hits me. How could I not place the name before? I’m almost embarrassed that it took me so long. “Are you Nur Udjang… the Dark Fighter.”

They grin, “The one and only. I’m surprised it took you so long to figure that out.”

“Could I see your brand?”

“Show you mine if you show me yours?”

“Deal.” Nur rolls their sleeve up past their elbow to reveal a puckered scar directly above the crease in their elbow. The scars came together to form an overlapped V and P. I follow suit and hook my right arm over the bench. I guide their hand to my arm, allowing them to trace their fingers over the brand. “Is it true that you’ve been a Venat since the beginning?”

“I have.”

“All forty-five years? That’s impressive.”

“Indeed. I am close friends with Imna.”

Imna Zungu. The legendary head of VenatPradae. The woman I was going to meet in 1-A. She’s the only other person in the world I respect as much as the Dux. She’s brilliant and has absolutely revolutionized Concordia and the fight against  _ Nonmunds _ . 

“How long have you been with us?” Nur asks, effectively grounding me.

“Coming up on fifteen years.”

They nod in approval, “Where’s your base?”

“It was 6-B.” The statement brings a sour taste in my mouth, but I don’t let the feeling overwhelm me.

“Was? Did something happen?”

“Just a disagreement with the head of our Sector.”

“Were you at 6-B all fifteen years?”

“Yes.” I don’t actually know if I spent all fifteen years at 6-B, but that’s what Meredith told me was true and I trust her. There’s no reason to lie to me about that. “It was time for a change, anyways.” I don’t really believe that, but I want to move on from the subject.

"So, where are you heading now?”

“Section 1-A.”

“To get a new assignment or...?”

I sigh, “To declare independence.”

Nur snorts, “Yeah? That had to be one hell of a disagreement.”

“I’d prefer not to discuss it.”

“How bad could it be?”

I drop my head and mutter, “Please, just leave it alone.”

Nur clears their throat and, thankfully, changes the subject “I’m heading to Section 1-A, as well, if you want some company. Though, I may be making some stops along the way if you can bear a few detours.”

“I can manage. Why are you going to 1-A?”

“Imna wishes for me to instruct new recruits in the art of Dark Fighting.” 

My curiosity peaks. This is something that can distract me. “What exactly is Dark Fighting? I’m not sure of the specifics.” 

They sit up a little straighter in their seat, obviously excited to be talking about this with someone. “Okay, so it’s designed to allow the student to develop heightened senses apart from their sight. A lot of people believe it primarily trains your hearing, but it actually begins as a way to enhance your sense of smell. Sounds can be confusing, muddled, and misleading. But smells can lead you to body odor, oils, dandruff, and other far more distinctive characteristics that can be used for in-depth perception and tracking. Advanced hearing does come as a secondary development, just not as quickly. A few years ago, Imna saw how helpful Dark Fighting could be for all Venats. She tried collaborating with me about how to teach the style for some time now, but she found it best for me to come back and instruct the recruits myself.” Nur’s eyelids open and close lazily. “I was growing bored of field work, anyway. It’s quite a task, getting your hands dirty every day. Can’t keep up with the  _ Nonmunds  _ as I used to. New recruits with no sense of right or left, however, are well within my ability.”

“Are they really that awful?” I ask. 

“Weren’t you?” 

I snort, “Probably, but at least I knew my left from my right.”

Nur chuckles, “Once you declare yourself, you should stop by a session of mine. It may do you some good. Give you some bearing before you leave on your own.”

My throat tightens at their offer. Nur sounds so cool and so confident in my ability to put on a front and declare my independence without getting caught and sent to the Dux and tried for treason. How can a stranger have more faith in me than I ever will? “Thank you, Nur. I appreciate the invitation.”

“I do hope you’ll attend. You sound so much more than just a soldier.”

I release a shaky breath, their words striking a strange nerve within me.  _ More than just a soldier.  _ My thoughts race, searching for a meaning behind the words. That’s not the first time I’ve heard the phrase, but it’s the first time it has come from a stranger. A stranger who  _ believes _ in creating soldiers. Are the words a blow to the recklessness that is leading me to declare my independence, or were they praise for my self-awareness and life-preserving attitude? My thoughts are interrupted by an abrupt shift in scenery, as the train pulls into another station. “Nur, will you be switching trains at this stop?” 

“I will be,” They say with a gentle bob of their head.

“Mind if I ride along with you?” I know they invited me earlier, but I wanted to double check and make sure that’s actually what they wanted. 

The first hint of a genuine smile crosses their lips, “Be my guest.”

The train slows to a grinding halt and the two of us are the only ones leaving the car. Bag slung over my shoulder, I step down the few stairs onto the platform. Nur follows behind me and they remain right at my side as we move to Platform 35. The second train won’t arrive for another half hour, so Nur and I sit quietly on a wooden bench a few feet from the tracks. My eyes search the cavernous space, quickly bored by the dull brick and gaudy street art adorning several of the walls. This station is not as well maintained as the ones in the main cities and there is a moldy smell wafting through the air. I cross my feet at the ankle and fold my arms over my chest, trying to keep my nerves in check as we wait. 

The train must be delayed, as we wait well over the time stamped on our tickets. A few people have filtered onto Platform 35 where we are waiting, but it is still relatively empty. I sigh and stand as the edge of the bench has begun digging painfully into the backs of my legs. I pace back and forth before a few minutes before a scream rips through the air, “A  _ Nonmund  _ in the station!”

_ Holy shit, how did I not notice?  _ Is my first, and only, thought as panic, chaos and fear overtake the few passengers on Platform 35. Two small families scramble for the exits, single passengers clutch luggage tightly to their chests, and a few shoes are taken off and held, ready to be thrown. 

I lock onto a young man trying to flee the platform, bags left behind. “I’m going after him.” I announce to Nur before taking off after him. I start to gain on him, my legs pumping wildly beneath me. For the first time I am thankful for the obnoxiously long platforms. A few feet from the exit, I get close enough to launch myself forward and wrap my arms around his neck to bring him to the ground. His body connects loudly with the stone platform and he cries out when I land heavily on top of him. I back off of him for a second to roll him onto his back and reposition my knees on either side of his waist. I shoot my left hand forward to wrap around his neck and my right hand flies into my coat’s inner pocket to remove a small leather wallet. I flip the wallet open to reveal a circular piece of metal, stamped with the VenatPradae crest and a license tucked behind a clear pocket. He needs to know who he’s dealing with. I hold it up for the  _ Nonmund  _ to see before replacing it in my pocket. “Who are you?” I snap. My hand remains around his throat, but it is not squeezing. It’s only a warning.

A choked breath catching on a sob is the only response. His eyes frantically search my face and the room around me. 

I bring up a knee and begin to press heavily into his abdomen. “There is no escape,” I sneer. “Answer my question. Who are you?” His silence infuriates me. “You entered a public space and endangered the lives of many innocent people. Who the hell are you?”

His lips move, but I can’t hear his response.

“Try that one more time,” I snap, threateningly tightening my grip around his neck.

“You will kill me no matter what I say.” 

My face remains blank. “Humor me. Who are you?”

“A person.”

I chuckle and shake my head, “Yeah, that was funny. But, listen, a  _ person _ doesn’t endanger those around them. They are not threats to our order. They live by the same rules as everyone else.” I sigh, “Now that you’ve made me laugh, what are you?”

He finally meets my eye and his own flash purple, making my lip curl and my stomach clench. “The only one  _ you’re  _ not allowed to kill.” 

The statement is worse than spit in my eye. My fingers curl around his neck and I feel my nails are close to breaking skin. “What is your name?”

“My name is Sebastian Paos. I am a Mer. I have done nothing to harm you. Nor will I ever.” He states, voice rapidly losing strength. 

_ Sebastian Paos. The name in the file.  _ I remove my hand from his neck and transfer both of my hands to pinning his arms against the ground. I vaguely register Nur kneel beside. “We need to take him to the Dux.”

“Everett -”

“She’s looking for him.” Sebastian’s frighteningly pale, fearful face stares up at me.

Nur cocks their head to the side, “How could you know that?” 

“I’ll explain on the way back to Section 6-B.” 

“6-B?” 

“That’s where the Dux is, and where we need to be.” Nur remains silent as I stand and yank the  _ Nonmund’s  _ wrists, ignoring his pained grunt as his shoulders wrench in their sockets. “I don’t have my restraints on me, so you’re going to have to play nice. Understood?”

I jerk his arms again and he awkwardly rises to his feet, “Yes.” His chin is lowered and he won’t meet my eyes again. 

I smile broadly, “Excellent. Now, I am going to leave you with my partner for a moment. Give them any issue and you’ll get to the Dux in pieces, consequences be damned. Yes?”

“Yes,” He breathes.

I pull him over to Nur and guide their hands to his arms. “I’m going to exchange our tickets for ones back to 6-B. I’ll be right back.” Nur hands me their ticket and I head towards the main platform where the main desk and ticketing services are located. 

There is a short queue when I arrive at the desk, so I hastily slip in line and double check that I have both tickets. My gaze shifts from person to person, senses heightened as I consider the possibility of another  _ Nonmund _ milling about the station. Mers usually do not travel in groups, but I can’t be too careful. 

I move quickly through the line, exchanging the two tickets and purchasing a third with no issue. Normally, I would never throw away money on a  _ Nonmund _ , but getting him to the Dux is the top priority. I thank the teller and briskly walk back to Nur. 

A wicked expression crosses my face when I return. Nur has the  _ Nonmund  _ on his knees with his hands behind his head. A bruise is blossoming on his left cheek and there is a small trail of blood running down his chin. “What happened here?” I ask.

Nur shrugs, “Someone was a bit cocky. Thought he could take advantage of me.”

As I get closer, I notice tears streaking down his face, “Doesn’t seem so cocky anymore.” I squat before him and take his chin in my hand, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “What did I say about playing nice?” I release his jaw and grip the front of his shirt, dragging him to his feet. “We’re going to be surrounded by plenty of innocent people for the next few hours, so I expect you to behave yourself. Yes?” He remains silent and I chuckle, “Come on,  _ Sebastian _ ,” I mockingly draw out his name. “Can we behave?” His teeth grind together and he spits out a ‘yes’. “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Nurs folds their arms across their chest, “When does our train depart?” 

My hand moves possessively to the  _ Nonmunds  _ shoulder, then I turn my attention to Nur, “Fifteen minutes from Platform 13. I say we should be off.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter, but exciting nonetheless. Things are starting to heat up and you don't want to miss a second of it. Follow me @clkaravis on tumblr for updates!

**DECEMBER 24th - NIGHT**

Luckily, the  _ Nonmund  _ was more than cooperative. He kept his head down while we waited and remained disconcertingly stoic upon boarding the train (not that I am complaining, really). I have him pressed against the window with my body, and Nur sitting in front of him, preventing any possible escape. The train car is even more empty than the first trip. There’s only an older couple in the very front bench and they’re engaged in a conversation of their own, meaning they won’t pay much attention to us. The emptiness allows me to keep a dagger poised over the  _ Nonmund’s  _ stomach as an extra precaution. 

“Is there anyone near us?” Nur asks, their voice low.

“No, only a couple all the way in the front of the car. We should be fine if we keep our voices down.”

“Of course.” Nur pauses momentarily, “So, why are we going back to 6-B?”

I take a deep breath, “Two days ago I was given a case file with his -” I jerk my head at the  _ Nonmund,  _ “- name in it. I ran into the Dux and she shredded the file. I didn’t ask why, because the Dux doesn’t really need a reason to do anything. But, then, I accidentally killed a Mer and Stan, the head of the 6-B Venats, made me leave and that’s what got me here. So, I need to return and attempt a reconciliation with the Dux. If I deliver her this  _ Nonmund _ , then she may not punish all of VenatPradae for my mistake and everyone can go about their business.”

Nur purses their lips and tucks a few strands of loose hair behind their ear, “Hopefully. The Dux’s personal connection with you may sway the odds in your favor.” 

That was a rather mellow reaction to my story, but I’m glad they didn’t freak out or yell at me. “She has never been one for personal favors. Or favors of any sort.”

“She has also never let one of her Elite trainees retain a Prade license.”

I falter, only just realizing what they had said, “Wait. How did you know I trained to be an Elite?”

“Imna keeps close tabs on all her Venats. You have popped up quite a few times in the past few years. When your new training showed up, she let me know. She likes when her Venats seek other training, but it also means she needs to keep a closer eye on you. That kind of uncontrolled power and skill can be dangerous.”

I slowly nod, though I am slightly disturbed by how closely Imna watches us. I know she only wants to know whether her organization is functioning successfully or not, but I can’t help but feel like my privacy has been wildly violated. It’s also strange to me that Nur could remember my Elite training, but not how long I had been a Venat. I guess people can forget things. “Uh, yeah, of course.”

Nur leans further over the bench towards me, “Everett, how many people do you think train with the Dux in hopes of joining the Elites.”

I shrug, not really sure how that question is relevant, “I’m not sure. At least a few dozen, I suppose.”

They chuckle and shake their head, “Try a few hundred. She oversees multiple training sessions daily, new faces in every room.”

“Then, why have I never run into another trainee before?” I ask, still unsure of the direction of this conversation. “There’s not even a hundred Elites, so what happens to all the trainees?”

“Do you remember how difficult it was to even qualify for the sessions?” 

I shudder at the memory of running gauntlet after gauntlet, desperately hoping to impress anyone watching. For weeks I had struggled through mere minutes of sleep; mind and body ready to shatter when I finally received the news that I was even going to  _ train _ with the Dux. “Yes. Anyone without an advanced skill set would have been broken or killed. A lot of them… a lot of them were killed, actually. And that was before they would even set foot in the room with the Dux. Qualifiers… that was hell on Earth.”

“Precisely. And even if they made it past the qualifying round, nearly all of them would eventually be turned away from the prized Elite title, and -”

“And the Dux would never approve of such strong, bitter people wandering the streets,” I supply.

Nur nods, “Exactly. Enough people died in training, but she knew that those who were strong enough to survive and make it to higher stages of training would loathe her and pledge their lives to ruin her.”

My eyes widen and I ask in a harsh whisper, “You don’t mean to say she killed those who lived?”

“Most never leave the training grounds. Poison in their water is usually what does them in.”

“You said most, not all.  How does she choose who to spare?”

“That, I don’t know. Those who survive, though, are usually restricted to low-status occupations. You are the first I’ve met who holds a real position after being rejected from The Elites.” 

_ How many rejects have you met? I thought you said survivors were rare...  _ “Could that mean anything?”

“It either means the Dux is using you as a pawn, or that she thinks you’re pretty,” Nur says with a cheeky grin.

“You are insufferable,” I grumble. I hadn’t expected Nur to be so chatty. From everything I’ve heard about them, they should be reserved, stoic, uninterested. I suppose rumors can be wrong. Regardless, Nur leaves me with more questions and confusion than answers. They continue to contradict what they tell me and I’m not sure how to react to that.

“The truth is not always pleasing,” Nur comments with a ‘matter-of-fact’ shrug of their shoulders.

I shake my head and lean back against the bench, remaining silent for the duration of the ride. My thoughts are unable to escape Nur’s assessment: the Dux is using me as a pawn. What would the Dux need me for? She has hundreds of soldiers beneath her and I am no more skilled than them. And, if she did need me, why would she throw me off a case? Had I properly worked the case then I might never have killed that Mer. Could she have wanted that this whole time? Maybe she wants to disband VenatPradae, but she doesn’t have a viable reason… did I just give her the perfect excuse?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a much longer chapter that I am particularly proud of! Remember to head to @clkaravis on tumblr for more on this book!

**DECEMBER 25th - DAWN**

We pull into the 6-B station several hours later. I guide Nur from the train while keeping a hand secured around the  _ Nonmund  _ and we exit the station without hassle. The sun is just beginning to rise when we step onto the main road. The town should just be waking up, so caution is vital as the streets should be bustling with workers heading for the docks and students heading to school. The streets, however, are empty. As far as I can see, every home has their windows covered and even the bakery a few steps from the train station is closed. “That’s odd…” The whole town seems to be holding its breath.

Nur’s face pulls into a frown, “What is?”

My fist tightens around the  _ Nonmund’s  _ collar as an uneasy weight settles in my stomach, “The streets are empty. The bakery isn’t open. And I can’t hear any of the kids going to school.”

“And there are no cars on the road. Is there any reason activity would be shut down for the day?” 

I think for a minute, but come up with nothing. “Not anything official. And nothing terrible enough could have happened to shut down the town. Not in such a short time since I’ve been gone.” My eyes widen. “Only a  _ Nonmund  _ attack could shut cities down on such short notice.”

“We’ll worry about that later. You need to focus on finding the Dux. She won’t exactly be parading down the streets, so finding her might prove difficult.”

I nod and bite the inside of my cheek which helps distract me. “Uh, yeah. I want to go back to where I saw her before, see if there’s anything there that could clue us in to her location. Then, I want to go back to my old 6-B headquarters. They have to know that the Dux is in town by now. They’ll at least be keeping some track of her movements,” I say, starting to walk us forward. We have to head towards the shipbuilding school on the ocean’s edge. 

Nur slightly pulls away from me, the sound of my leather soles against cobblestone loud enough for them to follow. “Everett, will they even talk to you? From what I gathered, they’re pissed at you.” 

“I don’t know. They know I’m not a traitor or anything, so I don’t know why they wouldn’t tell me where the Dux is.” I sigh. “We’ll just have to go and find out for ourselves. Hopefully, I can at least reason with them.”

Nur nods silently and I hear the  _ Nonmund  _ mutter something under his breath, but I don’t have the patience to talk to him. Just hearing his voice might be reason enough for me to kill him.

“Are we much further?” Nur inquires after we’ve been walking for a bit.

I clear my throat, trying not to be creeped out by the shuttered houses and the unsettling feeling that we are being watched. “No. We’re only five minutes away.” 

“Where exactly are we going?” We make a sharp right and a frigid, salty blast of air swirls around us and they sharply inhale. “Ah, so that is the ocean I’ve been smelling.”

“Yeah. The Atlantic.” The smell of pure, salty garbage. “When I encountered the Dux she was investigating something in one of the ship building schools. Nearly the entire adolescent and young adult population of 6-B is enrolled there. Huh, you know, that would actually be the perfect place for a Mer to blend in. Their oceanic knowledge wouldn’t stand out.”

“Embracing the knowledge of a  _ Nonmund.  _ How embarrassing.” I jerk to a halt and turn my head to the  _ Nonmund. _

“And you were being so good and quiet,” I sneer.

A disgustingly cocky smile cracks the  _ Nonmund’s  _ passive expression, “The humans who accepted that knowledge must be humiliated.”

“They didn’t accept it knowingly.” 

“Why should it matter as long as the information is correct?” He asks.

Such an arrogant question makes me want to snap. “What someone - some _ thing _ \- knows or does not know is not in question. No  _ Nonmund _ should be allowed in our schools. They shouldn’t even be on our land.”

“Then why am I still alive?” He hisses, recklessness swirling in his eyes. 

Nur wrapping their arms around my shoulders is the only reason I don’t have a knife six inches into his neck. “Everett, stop it.” Nur snaps in my ear. “You’re in deep enough already. And you need him alive.”

I suck in a breath through clenched teeth, “You’re a lucky bastard.” I spit. I pull his face close to mine and I feel his panicked breath on my face. “Cross me once more and no one will stop me from gutting you like the fucking animal you are.”

His grin finally falls, “Consider me warned.”

“Good.” I push him a few steps in front of me, but keep my hand hooked around the back of his collar. “Now, we’re wasting time.”

We aren’t ten steps further when someone calls my name. “Everett?” 

“God,” I growl. “Of course you’re following us. What can I do for you, Meredith?” I ask without turning to her. The way my name snaps off her tongue is enough for me to identify her.

“Ev, you shouldn’t be back here.”

I almost laugh, “I thought you would be happy to see me. I  _ did _ leave without saying goodbye and that wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.”

I hear her step forward. The heels of her favorite boots are sharp against the stone. “These people? Who are they?” 

“Are you upset that I made new _ friends _ .”

“Damnit, Everett, look at me!” 

I look halfway over my shoulder, revealing a disinterested expression, “Meredith, I’m going to ask that you leave me to my business. You can go.”

“No,  _ you _ need to go. The Dux -”

“Oh? What about her? Has she been asking about me?” Now I grin. I’ll get Meredith to tell me everything that she knows. She could never keep anything from me. 

“She placed a kill order on you.”

My stomach drops, but my face remains split by my grin. In no world was I prepared to hear that from her. “She did, did she?”

“Yesterday evening. No one’s on the streets cause they’re afraid of running into you. You need to go before you get yourself hurt or killed.”

“I saved them from a threat.  _ Again, _ I might add.”

She shakes her head, “No, Everett, she called  _ you  _ the threat. Said you’ve gone rogue. Said you’ll kill anyone who even looks out of place.”

Now my face settles into a cold stare and rage boils in my gut. “And people just accepted that? They know me. I’ve saved families! Children! They can’t possibly think I would ‘go rogue’. That’s madness!”

“You know how people idolize her. How they fear her. They wouldn’t question her if she said they had to kill their loved ones.” Meredith squares her shoulders. “What I’m trying to say is that… well, I’d suggest you leave now.”

“Meredith, I can’t. I have to find the Dux. I have to make things right.”

“She won’t simply forgive you,” Meredith scoffs. “You’re delusional if you think that’ll happen.”

“That’s why I brought a peace offering.” I turn the  _ Nonmund  _ and myself around. “This is Sebastian. He’s the Mer who will get me back into the Dux’s good graces. I think she was looking for him, anyway.”

Meredith slides her hands into her coat pockets, eyes narrowed as she assesses my proposition. “As impressive as returning him would be, she won’t redact a kill order. Once it’s out, it won’t come back. People aren’t a big fan of changing their plans. Especially when there’s such a huge bounty on the line.”

“Then, I better find her before someone finds me. And a bounty? I’m absolutely touched.”

She inhales sharply, “Everett.”

“What?”

Meredith removes her right hand from her pocket, revealing a small pistol clasped tightly in her hand, “I found you first. And that bounty? Life changing.”

My eyes widen and I shake my head. 

“And this is me. I’m not going to sink my career because I didn’t kill you when I had the chance.” She levels the pistol with my forehead. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Meredith -” I am interrupted by Nur spinning and whipping two throwing stars at Meredith. The first star knocks the pistol from Meredith’s grip, and a second star embeds itself in Meredith’s left shoulder. She collapses with a scream and her body curls in on itself to protect the wound. “I had that,” I mutter to Nur.

“You didn’t.” Nur grunts. “Are you going to check on her?”

“Why would I? She was going to kill me.”

“You care about her.”

“How would you know that?”

“You easily could have overpowered her. You had a free hand and she was hesitant,” Nur states bluntly.

“Did you hit anything fatal?”

“Could have.”

“Nur.”

“I didn’t. Don’t want  _ another  _ body behind us,” they state.

I pause, ignoring their jab, and fight the urge to run to Meredith’s side. “She’ll survive?”

“I thought I made that clear.”

“We have to go.” I turn my back on Meredith’s writhing form and take a steadying breath. “Someone will be along soon and there’s a chance she may betray me.”

“Has she not already?”

“Following orders is not the same as betrayal.” Nur’s silence prompts me to begin moving. They fall in step beside me, but I have to drag the  _ Nonmund _ so he’s able to maintain our pace. 

My attention begins to wander as I finally let myself take the time to address the thoughts nagging at my brain. Firstly, the Kill Order. My offense should have elicited a direct visit from the Dux. I thought she would have revelled in the opportunity to throw me in prison or kill me herself. She is too personal, too egotistical for anyone else to take care of the man who killed a Mer. Secondly, Meredith. She had every opportunity to pull that trigger. She brought a gun to a knife fight. She should have been able to kill me with no contest. And, whether she wanted to follow through or not, I have never known her to disobey an order. She shouldn’t have any loyalty to me left. Unless I did something to give her the impression that there’s more between us than she thought. 

The thing I can’t even begin to wrap my head around, though, is Nur. The accuracy of their throw… astounded me. It was borderline supernatural. They were standing behind and to the left of me, meaning they had to throw across their body and over me to hit Meredith’s left shoulder. That’s a throw I wouldn’t have been comfortable making even with my sight. If I didn’t know Nur, I would have thought they were a  _ Nonmund _ . But, I don’t know… it all happened so fast. I might have missed something. 

“Hey,” Nur’s sharp tone demands my attention. “We’ve been going on a while. Any chance we’re there?”

I stop and survey our surroundings, surprised to see the shipyard is directly to our right. We probably would have walked right past it if Nur didn’t stop me. “Uh, we’re here, actually. How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess,” they shrug. “We won’t be running into anyone inside, will we?”

My gaze is drawn to a large CLOSED FOR INSPECTION sign tacked to the front door, “We shouldn’t have to worry. It’s still closed.”

“What are we going to do about your friend over here?”

“There has to be somewhere I can tie him up inside.”

“What exactly are you trying to find?” They ask as I direct them towards the back entrance. 

“Anything the Dux would find important enough to keep this place closed for this long,” I say, on high alert to ensure we’re not being watched or followed. 

“And what is your plan for getting in?”

“I’m going to…” I trail off when we round the corner, the back of the brick building in full view. “Holy hell…”

“What?”

I grab tightly onto Nur’s arm to stop them, “The back doors look like they’ve been hacked apart with an ax. All the windows are shattered. And, from what I can tell from here, everything on the inside is burned. Completely scorched. Either someone was trying to break in or -”

“They were trying to get out.” Nur finishes. “Sure you still want to go in?”

“I do. The fire is probably what prompted the investigation.” My brow wrinkles in confusion. “But then, why did no one know about the fire? Half the customers in the pub are associated with this school. Why was there no talk about it? Do you think she blamed me for the fire?”

“She probably did blame it on you. You already killed a Mer, so you were an easy scapegoat. That would explain why everyone is so terrified of you.”

“Right. Of course she would do that,” I run a hand through my hair. “There are five stairs to the doors.” They nod and cautiously ascend the stairs as I turn my attention to the  _ Nonmund _ . I’m pissed off and in the mood to make him feel like the garbage he is “You probably didn’t enjoy hearing all about that fire, did you? I bet you prefer the water where you can kill humans without anyone noticing. Right? Bet you hate the land where you feel weak. Powerless.” I move my hand to the front of his shirt and skip up the stairs, causing him to stumble and smack his shins painfully against the stairs. 

“I’ve never killed anyone.” He trips on the last stair and falls against me. “I’m nothing like you.” He hisses in my ear before I force him away.

I scoff, “ _ Dogs  _ are not like me. You are the dirt under my boot. You couldn’t even dream of being like me.” I sneer, forcing him through the shredded door before us.

“Only in my nightmares do I wish to ever be you.”

“Think you’re so clever, don’t you?” I spot a post a few feet in front of me with piles of thick rope dropped next to it. I drag the  _ Nonmund  _ to the post and throw him against it, a satisfied smile finally returning to my face when the back of his head cracks against the wood. My hands work swiftly as I secure the rope around three points: knees, waist, biceps. I pull the rope tight, deaf to the pained noises he makes as it bites into his skin. I find a piece of soiled cloth on the ground and grasp his jaw in my right hand. I force his mouth open and stuff the filthy cloth down his throat. I grin and pat his cheek, “Enjoy that. We shouldn’t be more than a few hours. Hope your daddy fish taught you to breathe through your nose.” I inspect the knots once more before turning away from him to join Nur. 

“As invigorating as that was, you shouldn’t let him get under your skin like that.” They comment once I stop beside them. “Nothing he has to say matters in the slightest.”

“I know. But it’s so difficult to keep my mouth shut when I know someone deserves it.”

“I was the same way,” Nur admits. “ _ Nonmunds  _ could really get in my head. They played off my blindness. It infuriated me. Imna finally sat me down and explained that we don’t have to defend our actions. We don’t have to explain ourselves and we certainly don’t have to give into their low-level taunts. You are superior to them and that’s all you need to know.”

I pause, allowing myself to take in what they said. “Doesn’t ignoring them make your skin crawl?”

They shrug, “Why waste your energy on damned creatures?”

I am about to respond when a thick, wet cough interrupts us. “You hear that?”

Nur draws four throwing stars from their belt, holding them poised between their fingers, “500 feet northwest. There’s someone there, shuffling feet, hiding.” They mumble. “Stay behind me.” I follow close behind them, intrigued by their effortless navigation. “Stop.” Nur’s palm is suddenly flush against my chest. “Whatever’s here is right in front of us.”

“We’re in front of a massive chest. The outside is minimally charred, but, otherwise, it’s perfect condition. There’s a thick padlock on the doors. I’m going to do a once around to see if the key is nearby.” I state, padding softly around the chest. I round the back of the chest and relief washes over me when I spot a key ring dangling from a nail in the back panel. “I’ve got the keys,” I announce when I return to the front. “There are five keys, so I am going to have to try them all. May take a moment.” I push the first key into the lock, but it won’t turn. The second key is far too small and the third is too thick. My impatience ebbs when the fourth key slides into the lock and turns with a sharp click. “Okay, I’m opening it.” I wrap my hands around the handles and ease the doors open. 

“What is it?” Nur asks when they hear a sharp breath catch in my throat. 

I clear my throat after a moment, eyes locked on the chest’s inhabitant, “Garon?” 

A slight, dark-skinned boy is huddled in the bottom of the closet. His body is covered in several layers of grime and the stench of human waste radiates from him. “Everett…?” His voice is raspy from disuse. 

I kneel slowly, not wanting to startle him, “Yes, Garon. It’s Everett.”

He suddenly scrambles forward and throws his arms around me. “You… you find me…” His heart is racing and his fingers clutch at the back of my coat. 

I gently return the embrace. “I did. I did, Garon. I found you.”

He tenses, “Who? Who is… who is that?”

I rub circles between his shoulders in an attempt to relax him, “Don’t worry, Garon. This is Nur. They’re a friend. They’re safe. You don’t need to worry. Okay?”

“You trust?”

“I do. And you trust me, right?”

“Ya.”

I pull away from the embrace and smile gently, a reassurance of my friendly intent, “Garon, why were you locked inside this closet?”

His eyes drop to the floor, shame evident in his slouched shoulders and shuddering breaths, “The boys…” He trails off, tears tracing patterns in the dirt on his face. 

“The older boys who tease you?” I supply.

Garon squeezes his eyes shut and nods, “Ya.”

“Did they say why?”

Black hair falls in his eyes when he shakes his head, “No. Said they would let me out later.”

“Do you know how long ago they locked you in here?”

“After school.”

“Before or after the fire?”

Garon’s eyes widen in fear, “Before. I thought… was going to get me…” His breaths begin to come out in short gasps. “So hot. Very close.”

I rest my hands on his narrow shoulders, attempting to calm him, “Garon, that fire is gone. You are safe now. You are here with me.”

His eyes frantically scan the room over my shoulder and his fingers shake as he brings up his hands to hold mine, “Water put it out?”

I nod, “Water did put out the fire.”

“Big water. Got me all wet.” Garon’s short breaths are replaced by shuddering sobs. 

“Garon, I need you to take a deep breath for me. You are safe now. I promise.” I wait for Garon to regain control of his breathing, then ask, “Garon, I only have one more question. Can you do that for me?” He weakly nods. “Did you hear anyone talking after the fire was put out?”

“Angry yelling.” He immediately whispers.

“Do you know what they were saying?”

He screws up his face, searching for the words, “Uh, N-Nonmunds… Water… Mer? I do not know two of those words.”

I shake my head, “That is alright, Garon. You did a wonderful job. Thank you.”

“Everett?”

“Yes?”

“Can I go home? Mama will be worried.”

I nod, “Of course. Can you make it on your own?” I watch him try and stretch his legs out, but he quickly grimaces in pain. “Your legs hurt?”

“You take me home?”

Nur places a hand on my shoulder, “Everett.”

I look to them, “He lives a five-minute walk from here. I will be back in no time.”

They shake their head and sigh disapprovingly, “Run.”

“Okay, Garon,” I say, reaching my arms out to scoop his gangly frame to my chest, “I am going to take you home. Hang onto me, okay?”

He tightly wraps his arms around my neck, “Thank you.”

“Always, Garon.” 

Garon’s head rests against my shoulder as I start for the exit, moving as fast as I can without jostling the boy too much. I ignore the venomous glare from the  _ Nonmound  _ and slip out the door, quickly skipping down the steps. Garon reminds me a lot of myself when I was his age. He’s not a native to Concordia and his English is very broken compared to the other kids, so he’s teased relentlessly. His adoptive brother works at the docks, so I’ve seen the two of them around the pub quite a bit. Helping Garon learn English and making him feel less alone is sort of… healing for me. It’s giving something to my younger self that I never really had. Giulia was the only one who made me feel accepted and warm, so losing her… it took me a long time to recover from how lonely that made me feel.

I turn left and follow the shoreline to a tall apartment complex a few feet beyond the shipyard’s campus. I enter the building and take the stairs two at a time. I reach Apartment 387 after three flights of stairs and readjust my grip on Garon so I can raise a fist and pound on the door. Moments later the door creaks open to reveal a middle-aged woman, who’s smile falls when she spots Garon, “My boy. Everett, what happened?”

“Nora, I’m so sorry, I don’t have time to explain what happened to him. He needs plenty of food and water, then he should be able to tell you. Please, keep him safe.” I transfer Garon into her arms and turn away, not wanting her to sweep me into an interrogative conversation. 

“Everett!” She calls after me, but I can’t let her stop me. I don’t have the answers that she is going to need. It hurts my heart to abandon Garon, but this is life and death for me. I care for him, but I also need to survive. 

I race back down the stairs and across the cobblestone path back to the school, reentering to find Nur feverishly whispering to the  _ Nonmund.  _ My eyes narrow in suspicion. “Nur!” They jerk away from him. Honestly, I’m surprised they didn’t hear me enter, as my movements weren’t exactly discreet. “Did you find anything?” I decide not to inquire about the conversation, knowing they would only lie to me. 

Nur adjusts their sleeves and shifts back into an attentive position, “The fire was no accident. There is gas all around the room. The wood still reeks of it. Perhaps the  _ Nonmund  _ was attempting suicide?”

Mer are water-based creatures, so lighting a fire would be more than a suicide attempt, it would be self-inflicted torture. “A Mer would never set a fire as a means of escape. Maybe the Dux’s team set the fire to try and smoke the  _ Nonmund  _ out.”

“That makes sense. A better idea than my own.”

I shrug off the seemingly uncharacteristic admission of guilt from Nur and continue my train of thought, “Something like that would definitely warrant the direct attention from the Dux. Literally smoking out a Mer? That’s high profile.” I shoot a glance over to the  _ Nonmund.  _ “Maybe we should ask our friend.”

Nur meets me before I can fully cross the room to the  _ Nonmund.  _ “So, the Dux didn’t orchestrate the fire?”

My brow pulls together and I shake my head, “I mean, not directly. The fire could have easily gotten out of hand.” I explain. “Now, let me talk to him. His name  _ was _ in my file and all.”

“Then, who set the fire?” Nur inquires, side stepping to prevent me from getting to him.

I groan. Why are they trying to block me? I don’t understand. “This was probably UC’s.”

“Undercover agents?”

_ Yes! You know that!  _ My thoughts scream at them. “That makes the most sense. They could have posed as students or instructors.”

“Where do we go from here?” 

“I need to talk to the  _ Nonmund. _ ” 

Nur raises an eyebrow and they step closer to me. Their voice lowered to a whisper they ask, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? He’s only going to rile you up.”

“He has answers I need.”

“What if you make things worse? What if you end up killing him? Then, you will never get anywhere with the Dux. You need to be smart.”

My lower lip curls into a sneer, “Smart?” I scoff. “I appreciate your concern, but this case has ruined my life and I intend to find out what happened.”

“Everett -”

“What I know is that the Dux personally confronted me about staying off this case, and Stan would have never given me the file concerning a Mer. There’s something wrong. Someone is setting me up and I need my answers. And I know that I have some of those answers tied to a post right in front of me.”

“I strongly advise against it. You’re hardly thinking and I don’t want to see you dead.” 

I hold their gaze, “So, I’m just supposed to stay in the dark while he knows all the answers?”

“You’re upset, Everett. This is no time for an interrogation.”

“Nur -”

They cut me off, “What was the first rule you were taught when joining VenatPradae?”

I square back my shoulders and rest my hands on my waist, “Think with your head, not your heart.”

“And what are you doing now?” I purse my lips, not wanting to admit my fault. Nur shakes their head, “You are thinking with your heart, Everett. You’re all emotions. So, save yourself and start listening to your head before you get yourself killed.”

“Your friend is right, you know.” I jerk to the left, anger radiating in my body. “You always trip over your own morals.”

“Fucking of course you’re here.” My jaw sets and new eyes narrow, “How did you know I was here?”

Stan steps through the doorway and smartly retorts. “Meredith returned to the pub with a throwing star dug in her shoulder. There hasn’t been trouble anywhere else, so where else was I supposed to go?” 

“But, you knew I was  _ here. _ She didn’t know I was coming here.”

“The Dux was here investigating a case. Where else would you go?” Stan snaps. He shifts his position and puffs out his chest to make himself seem bigger than his five foot seven frame. “You aren’t as smart as you think you are.”

“What do you want?” I spit, not allowing myself to appear threatened by his demeanor. “If you’re here to convince me to turn myself in, turn around. Don’t waste your time.”

He jabs a finger at me. “Everett, you’re making a mistake. More people, innocent people will be killed if you pursue this. I know you don’t want more blood on your hands.” 

“Do you not care that the Dux is out to kill me? What happened to us being a family? Would my death mean nothing to you?”

“Everett -”

“No, Stan! You are so concerned with everyone else dying, but you throw me aside like garbage. I carried 6-B on my back! I’m the only reason Imna didn’t end you!” 

The words fly like venom and Stan flinches, physically repulsed. “You would be nothing without everything I did for you. Before me you were running around without a home, without a family, without any money. Without anything.”

My cheeks flare a furious scarlet, “And without me,  _ you  _ are nothing.”

Stan’s mouth twists into a snarl, “You made your choice. This punishment is your own fault.”

“I was only doing my job!” I shout. I clench my fists at my sides, ragged nails digging into my palms. 

“You know her laws.” Stan spits. 

“What was I supposed to do? Nothing?”

“Yes! You were to walk away and do nothing! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I was going to save lives! That’s what I do. I don’t just kill to kill. You know that.”

“Everett, you’re becoming too dangerous. You don’t know your own strength and you’re not going to let anyone knock you down. I didn’t realize it until you left, but you aren’t safe. You’re going to do a lot more damage.”

“Stan -”

“No!” He says as he draws a long rifle across his shoulder and levels it with my chest. “I’m going to give you one chance to convince me why I shouldn’t kill you right now. And raise your hands. I don’t want any surprises coming out of your back pockets.”

“You’re a coward, Stan. You would never shoot me.”

A bang echoes through the space and a bullet drives into the floor inches before my feet. “Want to try that again?” Stan grunts as he reloads the weapon. “And hands. Raise ‘em.”

My hands remain clenched as I raise them level with my head. “You won’t kill me.”

“You’re right. That bounty is a lot bigger if I deliver you alive. That doesn’t mean I can’t knock you around a little bit if you don’t do exactly what I say.”

I gulp. It’s a little sickening to hear them talk about my bounty like I’m a piece of meat and for a split second I think that this must be how  _ Nonmunds  _ feel.  _ They _ deserve it, but me? I don’t. I haven’t done anything wrong. “Stan, come on. You don’t really think I killed that Mer on purpose, do you?” 

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

I decide that yelling at him isn’t working, so I settle on trying a different tactic. Meredith. He always had a soft spot for her. I let my face fall a little and I shake my head as I say, “Stan, it was freezing. I had lost Meredith. I was so worried about her. I wasn’t thinking properly. I saw his eyes flash and I… I couldn’t stop. Everything happened so fast. Stan, you have to believe me. I didn’t know.”

Stan readjusts his grip on the weapon. I knew that would work. Now he’s nervous. “You really couldn’t see the color of its eyes?”

I shake my head, “No. The snow was too thick. I knew the colors changed, but I didn’t know what color they were. Please, Stan. You have to believe I didn’t want this. It was an accident. A mistake.”

I internally grin when Stan slowly lowers the rifle, “As frustrated as I am, I understand and believe you.”  _ Holy shit, I was not expecting that response. _ “Now, tell me why you came back here.”

His change in demeanor makes me incredibly suspicious, but I’m not going to throw away this opportunity to get what I want. “I want answers. Answers I can’t get anywhere else.”

“What answers are important enough for you to risk your life?”

I keep my hands raised, not wanting Stan to think I’m threatening him by lowering them. “Why did you give me the Mer file? And don’t tell me it was an ‘accident’ or a ‘mistake’. You would never be so careless.” 

“I thought you would follow the rational course of action: arrest the thing and bring it to the Dux.”

My eyes narrow, “In all my years with you, you never gave me a Mer case. And I know some have crossed your desk. Why now?”

“The case continued to show up.”

I scoff, “So, you sent me out because it was annoying?”

“I thought you would have known better.”

I shake my head with a disbelieving snort, “You can keep feeding me that same lie, but Stan, I didn’t kill the Mer based on the file you gave me. The Dux shredded it before I got more than a name. Cause I’ve got  _ Sebastian Paos  _ right behind me, so that was a different Mer I killed.”

His chest heaves when he finally notices the  _ Nonmund  _ behind me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I take a few steps forward, shoulders tense. “Why did you give me the Mer file?”

“I told you -”

“Bullshit!” My strides increase until I am inches from Stan’s face. “Stop lying to me.” 

Stan’s eyes drop, “Someone put a note in the file.”

I raise an eyebrow and lean in a little further. My hands are still raised, but mostly in a mocking fashion. “What? You want to tell me a little more about that?”

His chest heaves and the rifle hangs loosely in his left hand, “I kept tossing the file, rejecting it, sending it back to whomever it came from. The last time it came with a note telling me to hand the case to you or risk losing the 6-B Venats.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have tracked down the sender.”

“No, Everett. We couldn’t have.”

“Why not?”

He sighs, “Would you really want to risk all of us?”

“You let me take that case completely blind.  _ That  _ was risking all of us. We could have figured something out. We would have, you know that. We could have dealt with this together.”

“No.”

“Stan, we could’ve -”

“Everett, you need to leave.  _ That _ is how you deal with this.”

“It’s not.” My teeth snap together and I straighten my back, standing tall before him. “I’m not going to run from this.”

Stan grunts, “What could you possibly do about this with your blind partner and a  _ Nonmund _ ?”

“I shouldn’t need to fight the Dux or anyone else. If I can’t convince her to redact the kill order then I’ll die knowing I did everything I could.”

“You’re being foolish.”

“Do you know if she’s still in 6-B?” 

“I’m not sure. If she is still here, she’s probably staying at the hotel near the courthouse.”

“Guess I should make my way down there.” I start to turn back to Nur, but Stan lashes out and grabs my bicep. “What the hell?”

“Just leave. Save Meredith the grief of your funeral.”

I rip my arm away from him, lips pulled back in a sneer. “Fuck you, Stan. And fuck Meredith.”

“That’s hard for a girl to hear.” Meredith’s voice reaches my ears only a second before a gunshot rips through the room.

Pain erupts in my right shoulder and I collapse, pain and shock clouding my senses. Hot blood soaks my shirt and jacket and I vaguely feel the barrel of Stan’s rifle press against my temple. I groan, attempting to focus on his words, but only hear a muffled, “It didn’t have to be this way.” I squeeze my eyes shut, readying myself for the bullet that is going to tear through my brain. But, before the pain can come, the rifle jerks away from my temple and Stan crumples to the floor beside me. I clutch my shoulder tightly and awkwardly scoot as far from him as possible, shoes not finding much traction against the smooth flooring. My eyes are drawn to the doorway, focusing in time to see Meredith sink to her knees, hands pressed against a knife in her stomach in an attempt to stop the blood seeping into her blouse. Her frightened eyes find mine and she collapses. 

Hours seem to pass before I feel Nur’s calloused hands on my uninjured shoulder, “Everett, we need to move.”

“You killed them,” I whisper, voice tight with unshed tears.

“They were going to kill you, then me. They had no intention of letting us walk out of here.” Nur explains shortly.

I slowly blink, trying to process their words, “Nur…”

“Yeah?”

“Stan… has keys in his pocket…” I groan, pain rolling through my body. “The… the large black key… to his car… had to come here in one…” 

“They did. There’s a car outside.”

“You didn’t… didn’t say anything earlier?” 

“I didn’t think to.”

“Whatever…” I breathe deeply, unable to focus properly. “See if the key fits. We need to go.”

Nur nods and exits the building, returning a few moments later after an engine roars to life. “The key works. I’m going to untie the _Nonmund_ first and settle him in the car, then I’ll be back for you.”

_ Why him first?  _ “Yeah. Fine.” My body is screaming in pain and I can’t think why. I’ve been shot before, but this agony is something completely new. 

I watch them trace their steps over to the  _ Nonmund _ and cut the ropes from around him. They pull him from the post with an odd amount of gentleness and turn him around, using a length of rope to secure his arms behind his back and lead him out of the school. Nur reenters seconds later and kneels beside me, “Everett, I need you to sit up.”

“Nur, I think the bullet clipped bone.” I grunt. I stretch out my left arm and allow Nur to clasp their hand around my wrist. 

“This will be jarring,” They say as they begin to pull. 

I hiss, clenching my jaw to prevent a scream. A firm tug brings me to my feet. I groan, my body shaking as pain blurs my vision. “Are we going to leave them?” Tears threaten to fall when my eyes find the bodies of my closest friends.  _ Former. Former friends. They tried to kill you. Now… now they’re dead... _

“Yes. Moving them is too risky. Now, wrap your left arm over my shoulders, we have to move.” I latch onto Nur’s shoulders and they adjust my arm further across their back. They ask, “Will you be able to drive?”

The question slams into me, my eyes blowing wide. I hadn’t considered that Nur wouldn’t be able to drive. “Uh,” I grunt. “If we patch me up, then yes. There should be a medical kit in the trunk.”

I stumble down the stairs, nearly dragging the both of us to the ground. Sweat is pouring down my face and I feel nauseous as blood continues to roll down my arm and chest. It’s gathering in the waist of my pants. It’s disgusting. We reach the car and Nur eases me to the ground, letting my back rest against the passenger door. Nur rounds to unlock the trunk and returns a few moments later with a large black satchel. They kneel beside me, “First, I need to try and take the bullet out. If it’s lodged too far in any muscle it will have to wait, because we do not have the time or supplies.”

“Just cut into the wound.” I groan. 

“What?”

“Take a knife, cut into the wound, and use the tweezers in the bag to remove the bullet. It has to come out.”

“That’ll hurt like hell. And the risk of infection -”

“Just do it!” I snap, tired of their hesitation. 

Nur hesitantly nods and digs through the satchel, producing a knife encased in a leather sheath. They remove the sheath and place it between my teeth. “Bite.” My teeth dig into the leather and the dirty case makes my skin crawl. They set the knife aside, opting for one of their own, and cut away my coat and shirt, tossing both ruined garments aside. “Brace yourself.” I clench my jaw and squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to watch as the knife digs into my flesh. I inhale sharply, dirty air causing me to gag. My heart rate spikes and I try not to jerk as the blade presses deeper. I hardly register Nur telling me they have found the bullet. The knife is removed and replaced with a bitterly cold set of tweezers. A moan escapes my lips and a spasm rocks my body when the tweezers scrape against bone, eliciting a half-hearted “sorry” from Nur. 

I must have blacked out because when my eyes open there is a thick gauze dressing covering my shoulder. My arm is bent at the elbow and wrapped tightly against my chest. The sheath rests in my lap and the sun burns my eyes “What happened?” I rasp. I’m freezing, too, but that’s secondary to the full body throbbing I’m experiencing. 

“You lost consciousness before I removed the bullet, but I got it out shortly after. There were several large bone fragments in the wound, but I was only able to remove the largest pieces. That will have to be looked at by a professional if you’re ever going to have full range of movement again. Your arm is wrapped to your chest to prevent too much movement.” Nur explains. “How do you feel?”

_ What kind of question is that?  _ I wet my lips and blink against the sun. “As fine as I possibly could feel. How long?”

“You were out twenty minutes.”

“What? So long?”  _ Someone will be looking for Stan and Meredith soon... _

“I’m not a doctor,” they snap. “Now, we’re wasting time. Come on.”

I frown, “Help me stand.” 

Nur latches onto my left arm and pulls me to my feet, holding my shoulders while my body steadies itself. My stomach churns and black spots dance in my eyes, but I keep my balance. They guide me around the car and open the door. I ease into the leather seat and grunt when Nur buckles the belt over my chest. They move the chest strap over my shoulders, so it rests behind my back. Then, Nur closes the door and rounds to sit in the passenger seat. 

“Ready?” They ask.

I nod and take a steadying breath, “I’ll do my best.” I glance into the rearview mirror, “Is he secured?”

“He is.”

“Excellent.” I place my left hand on the steering wheel and sigh, “Getting out of town is going to be difficult. But, they’ll be looking for us to be on foot, so being in a vehicle is going to give us an advantage.”

“With the streets so empty, won’t we seem suspicious?” Nur inquires. 

“Anything we do is going to be suspicious. But, a car is the fastest and safest way for us to get anywhere.”

“Here are your keys.”

I chuckle and reach across my body to take the keys and push the black key into the ignition. “I knew there was something I was forgetting.” The car roars to life and I decide that the wide drive slightly ahead of us is the best route to the main road. I shift into drive and press my foot against the gas pedal, jerking us forward. My grip tightens around the steering wheel as the uneven cobblestone bounces us around. Suddenly, I slam onto the break and snap my head to Nur, “My bag. It’s still in the building. I need to get it.”

“Just leave it, there isn’t time.”

I shake my head, “No. My money and weapons and extra clothes are in there. I have to go back.” I reach across my body to put the car in park and unbuckle my seatbelt. “I’ll be fast.” 

Getting out of the car painfully jars my shoulder and the run up to the back door pulls at the stitches that were probably done very haphazardly. I step over the threshold and my boots immediately squelch in blood. I don’t want to look down and see Meredith’s dead body, but I can’t resist the urge. I’m almost brought to my knees by her waxy, lifeless body and the need to vomit attacks all my senses. It isn’t until I see Stan’s body, sprawled unceremoniously on the ground, that my dinner from last night forces it way out of my mouth. Bile and stomach contents splatter onto my shoes and Meredith’s corpse. I choke back another round of vomit and squeeze my good hand into a fist. The sound that comes out of my mouth next is nothing more than an animalistic, primal scream. I scream until my throat is raw and there is nothing left in my body. All that’s left is for angry tears to roll down my cheeks and my body heaves as I try to calm myself down. 

I don’t know if I’m angry or betrayed or relieved that they won’t be after me. I straighten myself and decide that I don’t have time to think about my feelings. I wipe my hand across my lips and spit out the last of the bile still coating the inside of my mouth. Three long strides get me to my bag and I shout loudly in pain when picking up the bag rips at the bullet wound. I rest the strap on my left shoulder and spare one last glance at the two bodies before tip-toeing back through Meredith’s blood and out the door. 

I can hardly breathe when I get back to the car. I jerk open the back door and toss my bag into the footwells and push the door shut with my foot. I sink back into the driver’s seat and ease the door closed behind me. 

“What took you so long?” Nur demands.

I shake my head and try to blink away some of the redness from my eyes, “Sorry. Just got a little distracted.”

“That’s obvious,” they mutter.

My eyes narrow as I shift back into drive, “Leave it alone.” I hold the wheel in a death grip and whip us onto the driveway that takes us to the main road. We jerk over potholes and uneven cobblestone before pulling onto a much smoother road. 

“Jesus, is nothing repaired around here?” Nur grunts. 

“Right, cause that’s the most important thing.” The comment comes out harsher than I intended, but I’m not exactly going to apologize. I turn left upon reaching the main road and, despite the ground being much smoother, my nerves are causing my arm to quake, so it’s nearly impossible for me to bear completely straight.

“Everett, you need to take a breath.” Nur’s suddenly empathetic tone catches me off guard.

“Nur, I’m fine,” I retort, my voice tight.

“The less control you have, the more people are going to notice. You’re making us easy targets. Is that what you want?”

I swallow thickly, “No.”

“Then get out of your head. You’ve driven hundreds of times. This is no different.”

“I didn’t have dozens of people trying to kill me all those other times,” I bite.

“You’ve never been in a car chase before?”

“Sure I have, but I was always the one doing the chasing.”

“Imagine that’s what this is.”

_ What? That doesn’t make any sense.  _ “Nur, I’m being chased.”

“You’re not.” Nur states.

“What?”

“Everett, ignore anyone who could be coming behind us and ask yourself, who are  _ you _ chasing?”

_ The hell does that mean?  _ My brow knits in confusion, “Nur, I don’t understand. I’m  _ not _ chasing anyone.” I obnoxiously emphasize the word ‘not’. I can’t grasp what Nur doesn’t understand. 

“Yes, you are. Who is it?”

_ Who? What?  _ “No one, I -”

“Wrong answer.”

“Nur, I don’t know what you mean!” I shout, my frustration mounting. If I wasn’t driving I probably would’ve throttled them for being so circular about this conversation. 

“The Dux, Everett.” 

My eyes narrow, annoyed that it took them so long to get that out. “I didn’t think about that.” Admitting that deflates my anger a little, but doesn’t make me feel any better. 

“No, you didn’t. You’re too busy focused on the people behind you. You need to remember what you’re really doing. Why you’re really in this car. Your fear and your anxiety is eating at you. Stop letting it. You’re inventing scenarios that aren’t real, that are not plausible. You  _ will _ get caught if you keep thinking like that. You’re not stupid, so stop acting like it.” 

I clear my throat and straighten my posture as much as I am able while holding in a pained grunt, “You’re right.”

“I know.” Nur states with a cocky tone. They return their attention to the front and cross their arms over their chest, effectively closing themselves back off. “How long until we are out of the city?”

I turn the wheel to the right, this time unable to restrain a hiss of pain when the movement pulls on my injured shoulder, “A few min-” I groan, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

“What?” 

“Of course this would happen.”

“What? Are you gonna tell me or not?”

_ Shit, I forgot they’re blind.  _ “The road ahead of us is blocked.”

“By what?”

“Cars, motorcycles, and all sorts of armed people. I think I recognize some of them as 6-A and 6-C  _ Venats.  _ Definitely dangerous. I’m going to take an alternate route.” As I’m turning the wheel, one of the armed men makes eye contact with me and barks something to his companions.  _ Fuck, this is bad.  _ My heart pounds when I hear engines roaring and tires screeching. I force the gas pedal as far as it will go and send a prayer to whoever is listening, which is a little out of character but, hey, I’m desperate. I set my jaw and whip us around corners and down tight alleys, not really sure if  _ I _ know where we’re going. 

“Will they follow us out of the city?” Nur asks.

“They shouldn’t. And if they try to, we’ll lose them before the highways,” I reply.

They curse when I swerve sharply around a corner and ask “How so?” 

“We’re going to take un-tolled roads out of the sectors.”

“So, Stan taught you how to travel illegally, too?” They sound almost disgusted.

I snort, “No, this is something I learned on my own. I did a lot of running before I met Stan and joined the Venats.” I turn us back onto the main road, confident that I have lost the people behind us. I grin when the outer reaches of the city greet me. 

“So, how does your secret entrance work?”

_ Strange that they don’t know… most Venats do…  _ “Border Forces only care about you if you pass through main highways or tolled roads. All you have to do is know how to avoid them.” I release a sigh of relief as the city fades in my rear view mirror. My foot, however, does not ease from the gas.

“You said you did a lot of running. Why?” Nur inquires, their face turned towards me as the question is posed. 

_ Interesting change of topic… _

I remain silent for a few moments, contemplating whether or not I have the energy to dredge up such heavy memories. I wet my lips and slowly release some of the tension from my shoulders, deciding that now is a good a time as any to answer Nur’s questions. We’ll be on the road for a while and I need them to trust me. “My mother was a… transient woman. We were never in one place for very long and we used the back entrances because we didn’t have the money to always pay at the tolls. Once she died…” I swallow uncomfortably. “I settled down here eventually but...”

“You continued moving around?” 

“Yeah, for a while. She died when I was eighteen and I met Stan a few months later.” I solemnly chuckle. “It took him three years of convincing before I joined the  _ Venats _ .” Something about the way Nur’s sitting becomes very alert and uncomfortable when I mention this. I can’t think of why, so I ignore it for now and continue to talk. “Never forgot the rules of the road, though.” I spare a quick glance at Nur, very off-put by their squared shoulders and raised chin. “So, uh, what about you? What were you before VenatPradae?”

“Well, I wasn’t in this country long before I met Imna. I never had much time to explore everything, because I had to stay in 1-A.”

“In order to become a citizen?” I ask. I know a little of Nur’s story, but it’s interesting to hear it directly from them.

“Yes. Also, because my brother was living there and I had nowhere else to go.” Nur explains, their demeanor finally softening. “It only felt right to stay with him.”

“How did you meet Imna?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nur’s cheeks raise in a smile, “We practiced in the same boxing gym. At first, she tried to go easy on me, but soon realized I didn’t need her special help.” They release a tense chuckle. “We ended up becoming close friends and moved into a place together for nearly three years. Then, she decided she wanted to be more than a boxing instructor. She didn’t feel like she was doing enough. So, she went off to try and join the Dux.”

“Were the two of you together?”

“Together? Yeah. You could say that. That’s actually one of the reasons she ended up leaving The Elites. The Dux decided that it was too risky for her top soldiers to be romantically involved. The day she came back to me, I thought she had angered the Dux.”

“So, she left on good terms?”

“She did.”

_ Interesting.  _ “Did she go right into creating VenatPradae?” I’m very curious to see how far Nur’s openness will take me. 

“No, actually. She spent about a year with me, just trying to keep herself busy. But, after The Elites, nothing could satisfy her.” They brush a shock of silver hair behind their ear, revealing vulnerability I hadn’t expected. “I actually suggested she look into local cases. Most people trusted her as a sort of figure-head in the community. They always saw her as a leader and a protector. They knew they could go to her. And, they did. They came to her with their suspicions and their problems, but she wouldn’t act on them in fear of upsetting the Dux. Finally, she decided that the Dux might not mind an extra hand, so she started closing cases. Eventually, the load grew so massive that she couldn’t handle it all by herself. That’s when she pulled me in. From there she kept recruiting. The first people came from the gym we boxed at because they at least had a basic set of fighting skills.

“As our numbers grew, people started coming to us. Offering their services. Soon, Imna realized what an asset our group could be if we had official status under the Dux. So, she went back to the Dux and proposed her idea for the Venats. Initially, the Dux was against the idea because she wouldn’t have direct control over us, but when she reviewed the cases and saw how effectively they were handled, she granted us permission to operate. So long as we didn’t interfere in any investigation being conducted by the Dux. A few years after we were made official, the Dux granted Imna rights to the anti-aging serum.”

I’m stunned by how much Nur revealed. I thought I would be getting a short answer, not a full debrief. But, it’s no time to back off, so I keep pressing, “Do you know what’s in the serum?” I don’t remember much about my induction into the Venats, but I distinctly remember the pinch of the needle in my neck and a freezing sensation as the serum spread through my body. 

Nur scrunches their face as they attempt to recall the contents, “I don’t know exactly, but it is biologically based. Based on the  _ Nonmund  _ genetic structure, actually.”

“Really?” The answer doesn’t exactly surprise me, but it’s uncomfortable to hear the answer out loud.

“Yes. Their body has a chemical compound located in their heart and bone marrow that slows the death of cells. Chronologically they may be a hundred years old, but still retain the physiology of a twenty year old human. And their immune system prevents them from contracting any disease that might kill a normal human. Which is why you never get sick.”

_ And they said they didn’t know much about the serum…  _ “So, if the cells don’t age, they don’t age?”

Nur hums in thought, “Well, the cells age and die eventually, but it takes an incredible amount of time. For us, though, the serum is bit ‘watered down’, so we age faster than a  _ Nonmund _ , but slower than a human. If that makes sense.”

I nod, “It does.”

Suddenly, they twist in their seat to address the  _ Nonmund _ . “How old are you?”

He remains silent. The answer I had expected. 

I roll my eyes, “They asked you a question.” I glance in the mirror and I’m disgusted when I see his eyes are closed and his body is visibly relaxed. “You comfortable enough back there?”

His eyes slowly open, violet irises staring back at me. “I’m one hundred and twenty-eight and yes. I am particularly comfortable. Listening to your sob stories has really made me feel better about my own life.”

“Whatever,” I mutter.

He snorts and, to my displeasure, continues talking. “It’s funny because you crucify us for not being the same as you, but you take our blood and manipulate it only to be called heroes. And it’s okay because you still look like ‘normal humans’.”

“And you leech off our land. You live off  _ our  _ accomplishments. You have taken everything we have with no return.” I counter, returning my eyes to the road so I don’t give him the satisfaction of eye contact.

He chuckles, “That situation is not comparable.”

“Isn’t it?”

“You’re committing genocide, yet you inject yourself with the very thing you hate. The thing that makes my people unique.”

“Unique?” I scoff. “A talented artist is unique. All you are is monstrous.”

“At least I don’t parade around pretending to be something I’m not.”

“Then, why do you pretend to be human?”

“That’s called surviving.” He sneers. “You steal from us, then kill us just for the sake of it.”

“Your kind has killed plenty of humans.”

“But I have never committed those crimes.” His voice mounts in volume and I can feel a lot of anger in his words. Anger I don’t really care about or feel threatened by. 

“And why should I care about that? Just because you haven’t, doesn’t mean you won’t.”

“I have never hurt anyone! Human or otherwise. So, why am I, and all the other innocents, being persecuted? We’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing to deserve any of this.”

“If one of your kind is dangerous then you all are.”

“So, the same should go for your kind.” He spits. 

“I’d like to see you try and kill me,” I sneer. I readjust my grip on the wheel in an attempt to keep myself grounded. I can’t let him get into my head. I can’t risk that kind of distraction. 

“I would never sink to your level.”

“Why? Too proud? Or would you rather start with the defenseless before you work your way up to me?”

He barks a laugh and I glance back into the mirror to see he’s thrown his head back and his chest is heaving with laughter. “Are you talking about your own experience or trying to make lies about mine?”

“Enough!” Nur’s shout cuts off my response. “Everett, you don’t have the energy to waste on this argument and I would rather not die in a fiery crash because you can’t keep yourself under control. And you,” They twist and I can sense that their haunting eyes are boring directly into the  _ Nonmund _ . “I did you a favor by removing that gag, so shut your mouth before I have to crawl back there to cut out your tongue. Understood?” He must have started to open his mouth to respond because Nur shrieks, “Am I understood?” A wordless nod must have followed because Nur rights themself in the seat with a satisfied grin, “Good.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter! I'm so excited to be sharing this work with you, especially now that it's starting to get really good. All constructive criticism is welcome and very much appreciated!

**DECEMBER 25th - EVENING**

We had fallen into an uncomfortable silence after our argument and a few minutes later Nur had drifted off to sleep. I greatly questioned their decision to sleep, but I didn’t want to risk angering them by waking them. And the  _ Nonmund  _ stays quiet, so I don’t have much reason to wake them, anyways. 

The pain in my shoulder has mostly faded to a dull ache, but any movement reignites it and leaves me gasping for breath. And the dismal heating in the car does little to stem the chills that come from not having a shirt or jacket. If I was more confident in our distance from 6-B, I would pull over and grab my things from the back, but I don’t feel we’re far enough. Even after a day of driving, you can never be too careful. So, I try to fade into a meditative head space in an attempt to ignore the chills. I am successful in calming my breathing and heart enough, but my mind won’t stop. My thoughts keep pummeling me with doubt and anxiety. I don’t know where these thoughts are coming from. In the past, I’ve always been able to clear my mind. I’ve always been able to ignore my thoughts. I don’t know if this is because of the situation I’m in or because I finally… I finally fucked up enough that I can’t justify what’s happening. I can’t blame it on anyone else. There’s… there’s no Stan. No Meredith. I don’t even know if I completely trust Nur. The only person I have left is myself and, if I’m being honest, that scares me. I haven’t been on my own like this since Giulia died and I don’t know how to cope with it. With this feeling that I’m just an absolute failure. 

A loud groan from Nur is enough to momentarily distract me. They shift in the seat to face me and, after stifling a large yawn, asks, “Where are we?”

“Still about an hour out before we reach 6-B’s border. There’s a gas station coming up and I want to stop before getting into 5-B.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

_ Thanks for the vote of confidence, Nur.  _ “I know that 6-B has the lowest gas prices in all of Concordia, so yes. I think this is a good idea.”

Nur pulls back, obviously off-put by my answer. “As long as you understand the risks.” They scratch the back of their head and bring their hand back in front of their mouth to cover a yawn. “Will we be stopping for food anytime soon?”

“Um… I don’t know.”  _ Yelling at me about a gas stop, but asking for food? Interesting priorities. _ “Probably not for another couple of hours. It’ll have to wait until 5-B at least.” 

I spot an empty gas station a few hundred feet ahead of us. I turn into the station and slow the car as I pull up to a pump. Once we’re stopped, Nur suddenly jumps into action, shucking off their coat and to drape it over my shoulders. I completely forgot that I wasn’t wearing anything on my top, so thank god Nur remembered. They help navigate my left arm into the sleeve and then button the garment over my chest. “Don’t want our lovely gas attendant to get suspicious.”

“Thank you,” I mutter just as the station attendant comes towards my window. I crank down the window and nod towards the middle-aged woman, “Evening.”

“Evening, sir. How full?”

“All the way, please,” I reply.

She raises an eyebrow and nods knowingly. That much gas is ridiculously expensive, even for 6-B. She rounds to the other side of the vehicle and opens the gas cap. My fingers tap nervously against the leather steering wheel as the woman takes her time turning on the pump. Finally, I hear the nozzle being fit into the gas tank and it will only be another few minutes before we are free to go.

“Where are you folks headed?” I internally groan when the attendant attempts to force small talk. 

“Nowhere in particular.” I quickly reply.

“A full tank doesn’t get you ‘nowhere in particular’,” she responds with a snort. 

“1-A,” I say shortly.

She hums, “Business or pleasure?”

“Pleasure.” I lie, not wanting any inquiries about our ‘business’.

“Interesting. You know people there?”

“Yeah. We’re just visiting.” Another lie. She needs to mind her own business.

“Family or friends?”

Thankfully, the pump clicks before I can respond, signaling that the tank is at maximum capacity and that our time together is done. “What’s the charge?” I ask. 

She notches the pump in it’s holder and returns to my window. “Fifteen gold. Four silver.” 

_ A ridiculous amount.  _ I fish through a small pouch and remove the requested coins, “There you are. Thank you.”

She takes the coins and steps back from my window, “Travel safe.”

“Thank you,” I repeat, transferring my foot to the gas pedal. We bounce over an uneven exit to return to the road. 

“Well, she was nosey.” Nur comments. 

I nod, “Luckily we won’t be seeing her again.” Having the window open for so long brought goosebumps to my skin and my fingers are ice against the steering wheel.

“You don’t think the kill order reached this far yet, do you?” 

“Uh, it shouldn’t have. Especially because this place is so remote. The Dux wouldn’t think to waste resources getting the message here.”

They nod, “How do we get to 5-B from here? I was under the impression the Sectors don’t connect.”

“According to all travel guides, government-issued maps, and popular routes, they don’t,” I say, something like pride swelling in my chest when I realize this is something only I know. Nur can’t correct me and can’t pretend they can do this better than me. “There’s a single road that connects them and it’s hardly more than a dirt path. It’s mostly used by farmers and local craftspeople.”

“Don’t they know how dangerous it is to cross on the non-sanctioned roads?” Nur asks.

I shrug and hold back a grimace as my shoulder pulls, “Uh, there’s a small group of ‘border agents’, so to speak, who are residents of their respective Sector and they charge a small toll in exchange for protection as you cross. If you don’t pay, they inform the authorities of your crossing and don’t protect you.”

“How much is the toll?”

“It depends on who’s crossing. We’ll probably be charged more because we have a car.”

“That doesn’t mean we have more money.”

I snort.  _ How does Nur not understand the rules of the road? Even if they don’t use these routes, they should at least be familiar with how they work.  _ “They don’t care. This is all about making money. They know they can charge as much as they want because no one wants to risk being caught or attacked.” I flip a switch to the left of the steering wheel and the front lights blink on, illuminating the dirt road before us. I have to yank the wheel back center, so we don’t swerve off the road and I mutter a quick, “Sorry.”

Nur huffs, “Will we still be stopping in 5-B?” 

“I thought about it while we were stopped and decided that it would be more practical to make all our stops in 5-A. We won’t be in 5-B for more than thirty minutes, so stopping would only take us out of our way.”

“You thought about all that in our five minute gas station stop?” Nur asks with a disbelieving laugh.

“It’s not like I just explained creation,” I mutter.

Nur shakes their head and I can feel an eye roll thrown my way, “Is there a plan to stop at a motel or something for a night?”

I release a heavy sigh, “Probably not. It’s too risky and we don’t have the money for it. Sleeping in the car won’t be comfortable, but it’s really our only option.”

“Will we be stopping near any bodies of water?” I almost swerve off the road when the  _ Nonmund  _ speaks for the first time in hours. And such a weird question, too.

I chuckle, “Why, so you can escape? Not likely. But, thanks for trying.”

“Only to be caught again?” He scoffs. “If you want me to make it to 1-A, I need to be in the water at least once. If I’m out of water for more than a week I die and you don’t want that.”

As much as I hate admitting it he is correct. Losing him would render all our work pointless. “The road we cross to get into 5-A is minutes from Lake Michigan. There’s a dense forest around it, so we should have no problem getting you in and out.” I hope my memory of the area still holds.

“Thank you.” 

My breath catches in my throat. His response surprises me. I am taking him to his assured death and he’s thanking me? I never would have considered thanking my captors - especially if they were only doing something to prolong my suffering. His calmness. His composure. It makes it seem like he’s willingly being held captive. Like some twisted martyrdom. There isn’t even the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. He’s staring at me with the conviction of a free man. I don’t know what’s happened in his life to make him so unafraid of death, but it’s his that peace unsettles me more than anything else. 

“Does this car have a radio?” Nur’s question feels out of place, but it distracts me from the  _ Nonmund’s  _ piercing gaze. 

“No, I’m uh, I’m not sure. I never had the opportunity to test it. I would try it myself, but I don’t exactly have a free hand.”

Nur extends their hand toward the center dash, fingers brushing over the buttons and dials. They finally find what they believe to be the correct button and press it. Instantly, big, brassy music blares through the car. Nur twists the dial to the left and the music is reduced to a whisper. They chuckle, “Well, it works.”

“That it does,” I reply, my ears still ringing.

Nur slightly increases the volume and begins browsing the stations. They flip past soft jazz, folk music, and another big band station to settle on a classical music station. “I used to play music like this.”

“Why did you stop?” I ask. I don’t really want to engage in the conversation, but it’s better than sitting in awkward silence. “Some of the most talented musicians come out of 1-A.”

Nur shakes their head and pops their lips, “Those musicians have music in their veins since birth. You don’t get into their circles without a glowing recommendation. And they would never accept anyone from outside of Concordia.” 

“Why is that?”

Nur shrugs, “I suppose because it could be used as a form of self or social expression if in the wrong hands.”

“So they would only grant access to people they trust?” I had vaguely heard of that policy, but I never paid much attention to it.

“Something like that. The same rule stands for any journalist or publicist. If you aren’t mentored by trusted and well respected position holders, then you hold no chance of being hired. Ever.”

I frown, “I never… never thought about that. Everything outside of the Venats is so foreign to me.”  _ But is it? I can’t remember a time that I thought of being anything other than a Venat… except when I thought of becoming an Elite, but that’s different.  _ My life before the  _ Venats _ comes and goes in bits and pieces - mostly in dreams - and, where I’ve been trying to handle it on my own, it still scares me a little. I never told anyone about my memory issues because I don’t want them to pity me. I don’t want them to think of me as anything less. I don’t want them to think that there’s this part of me I’m hiding. It’s not hiding, it’s just… not there. And they would’ve probably written it off as the result of a concussion, anyway. It’s not like they would  _ actually _ try and do anything about it. 

“The politics of everything is much more complicated than anyone will admit. I’m shocked that anything can happen with the rules as strict as they are.”

I lick my lips and nod, trying to keep myself from sinking too deep into my memories, “Thank God for Imna and the  _ Venats. _ I probably would have ended up on the streets if not for her.” It’s not a lie. But, I don’t know what the truth is.

I think Nur responds, but I don’t register it as another voice begins to echo in my head. 

_ “Everett, what are you going to do in 6-B? I can always offer you a place to stay in my apartment, but I want you to be able to provide for yourself. Do you have any training? Anything that can get your foot in the door somewhere?” _

__ “Jenn…” 

Nur’s head snaps towards me, “Who?” 

_ “I don’t, Jenn. I don’t have anything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”  _ The memory version of myself responds. 

“Jenn…” I mutter again before I can stop myself.

“Everett, who is Jenn?” Nur shouts. 

_ “Don’t worry, Ev. We’ll figure something out.” _

__ “Everett!” This time, Nur’s hand connects with my shoulder and pain whites my vision. 

I gasp, broken out of the memory and concentration completely shattered. My left arm jerks and I have to slam my foot on the break to keep us from spinning off the road. We skid to a stop almost a hundred feet later, dirt billowing up around us. I suck in heaving breaths, trying to get my heart back under control. “Why… why did you do that?” I gasp, nerves on fire. 

“You were stuck in some memory or something. You need to concentrate,” Nur deftly explains. 

“And almost causing us to crash is your only solution to that?” I snap. The pain is fading to a dull throb, but I still want to scream at Nur for being so reckless. I want to lose my mind because they are preaching this self-awareness and things that sound like  _ Venat _ teachings, but they aren’t practicing them. Nothing they do makes sense and it’s starting to piss me off. 

“Don’t get distracted and we won’t have any more problems,” Nur sneers, tone slimy and deadly. 

I grit my teeth and bite back a response, knowing there are more important things to dedicate my energy to. We fall into silence for the last twenty-minute drive to the 6-B, 5-B border. There is a disgusting amount of tension between the two of us, but neither of us is going to do anything to change that. Thankfully, though, my thoughts have quieted, so I don’t have to fight them as I drive.

  
  
  
  


When we finally approach the border a young boy, probably no older than twelve, steps into the center of the road and plants himself. I bring the car to a stop only inches from him. We sit in silence for a minute or so, staring uncomfortably at each other, before a girl steps next to the boy. She is dressed entirely in heavy, black leather meant to protect from knife attacks. She produces a velvet coin pouch from her belt and struts to my window; body language so much older and confident than it should be. 

“What’s your business?” She asks while I lower my window. Her voice is clipped and full of authority, letting us know that she means business.

“Passage into 5-B,” comes my quick reply.

She eyes the car and nods before making her report, “Newer model. Three passengers. Business or leisure?”

My heart is racing. I had forgotten the  _ Nonmund  _ was tied up in the back. I can only pray that she doesn’t ask about it. “Business.”

She leans an arm against the top of the doorframe and I am oddly threatened, “Political or local.”

“Local.”

She snorts, “Horseshit. Your car is too nice to be goin’ on a local business. And ya ain’t got anything to sell, so what’re ya really doin’?”

I grit my teeth, “Fine. Political.”

“Fifteen silvers.”

“Fifteen?” I repeat. That price is much steeper than normal.

“Three fa’ each passenger, two fa’ the vehicle, two fa’ politics, and two fa’ lyin’ to me.”

“Ridiculous.” 

“I can report ya’ to Border if you’d prefer,” she states. 

I dig the coins from the purse and I silently thank my past self for moving the purse into my coat at the gas station. I shove my fist of coins at her with a huff, “I’d rather you didn’t.”

She grins and accepts the payment, “Good. That’s a smart choice.” She drops the coins in her own purse and says, “You’re lucky I ain’t my father. ‘E woulda killed ya fa’ that lie. My extra charge was generous.”

I swallow my pride and nod, “Thank you.” I want to get as far away from the border as soon as possible. Something about this girl’s demeanor is setting me on edge.

“Better not catch ya lyin’ again.” She backs away and waves the boy off the road. She nods to me and turns her back to us, retreating into the darkness.

Most of the unease rolls off my shoulders when we start moving again, but some still lingers in the back of my mind and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Will passage always be so steep?” Nur asks. 

I try to keep myself focused on the road in front of us to distract myself from the border crossing, “Not always.”

“What if you don’t have the money to cross?”

“Then you bargain or fall into debt.”

“Couldn’t you avoid them and never pay the debt?”

“I suppose. But, anyone desperate enough to use these roads will pay their debts. They know how important making a living is.”

Nur hums in response, “How long to 5-A?”

“Thirty minutes, maybe.” I glance into the rearview mirror and see the  _ Nonmund  _ is asleep.  _ No wonder the girl didn’t say anything… you wouldn’t even be able to tell we were holding him captive. _

My peace quickly dissipates when a beam of moonlight catches his face. I gasp and my eyes widen.  _ Of course something has to be wrong.  _ His face is incredibly, almost deathly, pale and the skin around his eyes and jaw appears to be cracking. “Nur, what does it mean when a Mer’s skin starts to crack?”

“Crack how?”

“Like someone drove a nail in a brick.”

“Shit,” they hiss. “That means he’s drying out. All the water is literally leaving his body.”

I raise an eyebrow and spare him another glance. “And that’s a problem?”

“How have you never heard of this before?” They snap and continue before I have a chance to respond. “His skin will crack so much that it’ll fall off in sheets, leaving him to bleed out and die. Did the cracking just start?”

“I don’t know. I only just noticed it.” I respond, my voice tight with annoyance at their tone and with the  _ Nonmund  _ for having this issue. 

“Everett, you need to get us to the lake as quickly as you can. He  _ maybe _ has an hour before we lose him.”

“I’ll do what I can.” I force the pedal completely to the ground, holding tightly to the wheel when the car jolts and begins to gain speed. “So, all we need to do is get him in water?” 

“That sounds correct,” Nur responds, their cloudy eyes wide against a tense face. It sounds like they’re holding back some information, but I don’t have the time to press. “This is as fast as you can go?”

“The car may look new, but the parts are definitely used.”

“So?”

“Yes. This is as fast as we can go.” I bite, effectively shutting them up. 

At the faster speed, we reach the next border checkpoint in twenty minutes. The man who comes to the window asks the same questions: passenger count, business or leisure, political or local. My total is ten silver coins, which he eagerly accepts. “Maybe get your friend some help.” He comments towards the  _ Nonmund  _ before I speed off. 

Ten minutes down the road and I veer right onto a worn dir path that is hardly more than packed earth. We head directly into a dense wood, snow covered trees whipping by us as evergreen branches scratch against the doors. We bounce over thick roots and dip into large holes, the road turning into no more than a walking path. Once the brush becomes too thick, I stop the car and pull the keys from the ignition. The engine cuts off and, for a moment, everything is silent. 

“Are we at the water?” Nur asks. 

“No. We can’t get any closer in the car. We need to walk the last couple minutes there.” I say as I undo my seatbelt. I wince as the belt snaps against my wounded shoulder, but my anxiety masks most of the pain. I exit the car and open the back door. Frigid air whips around my body as I lean into the back seat and undo the  _ Nonmund’s  _ belt. I wrap my arm around his shoulders to drag him from the car. My skin crawls as I feel his dry, cracked skin grind against my fingers. I reposition my arm so it is hooked under his armpits and his back is pressed to my chest. I’ll have to untie his hands once I get to the water… “Nur, you coming?”

“No, don’t worry about me. I’ll only slow you down. Get him to the water,” Nur responds.

I grunt and begin dragging the unconscious  _ Nonmund  _ towards the water. My feet catch on a few roots, but nothing is enough to make me fall. Low hanging tree branches whip at my face and scratches burn my neck and cheeks. The trees finally break and a vast lake stretches before me to dip across the horizon. I cautiously pad over a pebble beach, only stopping once I reach the edge of the water. A few ice crystals shine in the moonlight, but the lake is far from frozen solid. I, however, freeze as I contemplate my next move. I have no idea how to proceed. I don’t know if it’s safe for me to simply toss him into the icy water or if that might make things worse.

Audible skin cracking rips me from thought and I am forced to make a decision. I lay him on the ground and pull a knife from my ankle sheath. I hack off the rope around his wrists and ankles and replace the knife. I hiss loudly against my own pain as I lift him again and wade shin deep into the water; teeth clenched against the cold as I ease him into the lake, stepping back as his body sinks into the darkness. Before I take my next breath, the water is quaking and bubbles break at the surface. My heart races. I have no idea what to expect when the transformation is complete. 

Silence. That’s what comes first. 

The water stills and I can see nothing beneath the surface. Then, with incredible grace, the  _ Nonmund’s  _ face breaks the water. To my surprise, he looks… normal. Well, more normal than I would have expected. His violet eyes and the blue-green gills protruding from the sides of his neck aren’t monstrous. They aren’t… disgusting. I suppose they would be beautiful if they weren’t so… unnatural. 

“How long do you need?” I ask once my initial shock has passed. 

“A few minutes.” His lips pull away to reveal jagged teeth that are perfect for tearing. 

_ Okay, that’s freaky…  _ “You won’t leave?”

“Only to be captured again by you or someone else?” He laughs bitterly, “There are probably dozens of boats in this lake carrying Scalers ready to make millions of dollars off my tail. And then I’d have to face the Dux after, so… at least with you I only get to experience one of those fates.”

I nod. His story might have been moving if his teeth didn’t look so… ready to kill me. “I’ll be waiting here.”

He nods solemnly and something like ugly betrayal flashes in his eyes as he dives back into the water.  _ What’s that about?  _ I only catch a glimpse of an opaque, light brown tail before it is swallowed again by the water. 

I remain frozen in place despite the lack of sense in my lower legs, as I am struck by the oddness of the situation. I can’t think of any conceivable reason why he wouldn’t try and escape. This lake provides access to the Northern American Federation and, with their nearly non-existent  _ Nonmund  _ policies, he could live there without a worry in the world. Yet, he chooses to stay and risk a torturous death. He claims it’s out of fear of Scalers, but even I would take that chance over the Dux. Maybe he’s trying to prove that he can play nice and follow the rules, but he must know that won’t change my mind about him. He’ll still be going to the Dux and he will still die. He has to understand that. Right? 

My teeth start to chatter and frosty needles start to make their way towards my stomach when the  _ Nonmund  _ finally resurfaces. “Why did you stay in the water?” He asks voice laced with genuine concern. Concern for me. Another odd trait to add to the growing list. 

“W-wanted to make s-sure you di-didn’t escape,” I mutter, teeth chattering loudly. 

His stunning eyes roll, “You would never have caught me. Even if your legs weren’t frozen.”

“W-worth a sh-shot.”

He sighs, “Well, let’s get you out of this water. It can’t be good for your shoulder.” His torso rises from the water and then his legs appear. My heart misses a beat. Not only did it shock me that his tail has vanished, but he is completely naked. Absolutely bare. Wet skin shining in the moonlight.

I clear my throat and return my eyes to his, “R-right. Let’s g-go.” My cheeks burn as I force my numb legs to slosh through the water back to shore. Humiliation continues to burns both on my face and in my stomach as we trudge back through the woods to the car. I can’t even look back at him, so I just have to trust that the set of footsteps behind me is his.

“You wouldn’t happen to have an extra set of clothes tucked away, would you?” The  _ Nonmund  _ inquires as we approach the car. 

_ Oh, thank god he asked.  _ I wasn’t about to offer him clothes, but I can easily give in to the request. Hopefully this comes off more as a… ‘thank you for cooperating’ gesture. But, who knows. Nothing has been going as I expected it to lately. “I do.”

I turn back to him as he bites on his lower lip in thought and I notice his teeth have returned to their normal square edges. “Would you mind if I borrowed them? I’m afraid I didn’t pack for a long trip.”

_ Attempt at humor,  _ I note.  _ An odd choice.  _ But, I nod. Any hope for a gesture of good faith aside, we have a ways to go and it would be ridiculously suspicious to have a naked passenger in the backseat... not to mention uncomfortable. “Just a minute.” I open the back door and take my bag out of the footwells. From the bag, I remove a white button shirt, black pants and a set of worn ankle boots. “The pants may be a bit short on you, but the shirt and boots should fit fine. There are no socks, so the leather may rub.”

He takes the clothing and nods, “Thank you.” 

I shove my hands into my pockets and watch him pull the clothes on. My brow pulls in confusion when I see deep bruising tracking the insides of his legs.  _ Stop it, stop it, Ev. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.  _ “What happened?”  _ Why did you ask?  _ My brain screams at me. 

His eyes drop to his legs as he draws the pants up over the bruising to fasten them around his waist. “It happens every time I shift.”

“Why?”  _ God, stop asking! It doesn’t matter! _

He pulls on the shirt, fingers shaking as he does up the buttons, “My tail… it’s inside my legs, underneath my skin. The muscles and veins connect at that spot on my legs.”

“Isn’t that painful?”  _ Why do you care? Just get him in the car! _

“You adjust.” He pushes his feet into the boots with a grunt. “Why so interested?”

“Only curious.”  _ You know curiosity kills the cat, right? _

“You’re never let one of us live long enough to ask before, have you?”

“Why did you not try to escape?” I deflect.  _ Good. Good. Get real answers. _

“You know why.”

I raise a doubtful eyebrow, “Really?”  _ Really? That’s what you follow up with? _

“Are you two finished yet?” Nur hollers out their window.

_ No.  _ “Yes.” I jerk my head towards the open door, “Get in. Figure out your story when I ask again.”  _ Okay. We’ll live with that. _

He ducks into the backseat and bows his head, shoulders hunched.  _ Don’t feel bad for him. This is his own fault…  _ I shake my head and return to my place behind the driver’s wheel. Now is not the time to get caught up in my head. I release a heavy breath and run my hand over my face.

“You alright?” Nur asks.

“Yeah. Just give me a minute. The feeling is still returning to my legs.” I say, hand moving to my calves to work the muscle. I am thankful, though, because the coldness in the rest of my body has seemingly sucked all the pain out of my shoulder. And any relief from that, even momentarily, is beyond welcome.

“Water cold?”

“Freezing.”

“I quite enjoyed it, actually.” The  _ Nonmund  _ comments. 

“No one asked you,” Nur grunts.  _ Ah, finally defending me. How refreshing.  _ They turn in my direction, “How long through 5-A?”

“Four and a half hours,” I say. “Including stops, of course.”

“Food stops?”

“Yes. After 5-A, it should only take us a day to make it through 3-B, 3-A, and 1-C. Then, two hours through 1-A to the capital.”

“So, no rest stops?”

I sigh.  _ Why are they so interested in rest stops? The car can’t be that uncomfortable. _ “If you really cannot sleep while I drive, we can stop.”

“Everett, I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”  _ Interesting. _ “Because, unless you trust the  _ Nonmund  _ to drive, there will be no time for you to sleep. And I don’t think you want to confront the Dux after not sleeping for nearly three days.” They pause. “And we should probably change your bandages before heading off. Don’t want an infected shoulder.” I sigh and allow Nur to change my bandages before I start the vehicle and back us out of the forest. 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! A shorter chapter so important nonetheless! Kudos and comments are wildly appreciated!

DECEMBER 26 th \- EARLY MORNING

It is close to two in the morning when we drive into a small town off a main highway in 5-A. The whole town is asleep, save a small diner lit with fluorescent white lights. I find a spot for parking right outside the establishment. I easily parallel park and shift the car into park. I reach across my body to remove the keys from the ignition and to undo my belt. Then, I prod Nur’s shoulder. It takes a couple seconds for them to wake up, which I think is weird. As a long-time Venat, they should be the lightest sleeper on the planet. “Come on, Nur,” I snap. “Wake up, we’re stopping for food.”

They groan, “I didn’t think we would be here this soon.”

“Nur, you were asleep for hours.”

They sit up and run a hand through their hair to try and straighten it. “Really? It did not feel that long.”

_ More than two hours feels long to me…  _ “Come on. We won’t stay long.”

“Is he coming with us?” Nur jerks their thumb towards the backseat. 

I sigh, “He has to. And I don’t think he’ll try anything. He didn’t at the lake and it doesn’t make any sense for him to now. Not in such a public setting.” 

“Keep a close eye on him.” 

“Obviously,” I mutter as I open my door and get out of the car. My muscles groan against the movement and my shoulder throbs and itches painfully beneath the bandages. When Nur changed my bandages yesterday, they leant me the black undershirt they had on beneath their sweater, so the bandages wouldn’t be exposed under the jacket. I’m also thankful for the extra coverage against the winter storm that has started to settle over us. The snow is starting to pick up and the wind is absolutely brutal. I open the  _ Nonmund’s  _ door and am thankful when his eyes snap open with the creaking of the door’s hinges. “Let’s go. We’re stopping for food.”

“We’re in 5-A?”

“Yeah.”  _ Glad one of my companions was paying attention… even if it’s the one I don’t care for. _ “We won’t be stopping again for a while, so it’s now or never.”

“You’re really letting me come in with you? Isn’t that against some law?” The amount of resistance in his voice is strange for someone who isn’t trying to escape. Nothing he does matches his cold attitude towards me.

“Just don’t talk too much,” I bite, but there is no real energy behind the jeer. 

He slides across the backseat and swings his legs out of the car, hard-soled boots connecting sharply with the ground when he stands. “Will we be staying long?”

I shake my head, swallowing the lump in my throat at the thought of our encounter last night. His unwillingness to attempt an escape still has me on edge. I can’t understand it. “Only as long as we need to.” I glance over to see Nur leaning against the car’s hood. I round to them and they hook their arm around mine. The  _ Nonmund  _ follows a step or two behind us and we quickly reach the diner’s front door. There are a few people milling around the tables, but it’s nowhere near crowded. 

We step through the front door, a bell rings to signal our entrance, and all eyes immediately fall on us. An awkward silence settles over the room as a waiter walks over to us, “Can I help you?”

I clear my throat, “Yeah, we’re just passing through and we’re just looking for a place to stop and eat.”

“Where are you all from?” The young man asks, his hands clasped in front of him as he looks at us with something like excited expectation. 

“6-B,” I say shortly, not keen on elaborating any further.

His smile only broadens and he doesn’t press.  _ What energy supplements does this guy take?  _ “Well, you picked an excellent place to stop. If you would follow me to your table, I can get you started.” He walks us over to a padded booth and allows us to take our seats. The red upholstered seats are wildly uncomfortable and there is something sticky under my left leg. I try to ignore the stickiness and instead try to take in the room around me: an exit sits in front of and behind us, the wall facing the street are floor-to-ceiling glass windows, there are no visible cameras, and there is probably an exit through the kitchen behind a counter that spans the whole length of the diner. Conversation has also returned to a normal buzz as the waiter places a menu in front of each of us. “Can I get you folks started with anything to drink? Coffee, water, juice?”

“I’ll have a coffee,” Nur says.

“Coffee for me, as well,” I second.

“And I’ll just have water,” the  _ Nonmund  _ requests. 

“Excellent. I will be right back with those and I’ll give you a minute to browse the menu. And, if you have any questions, my name is Charlie.” He turns from the table and stops at another pair of customers before slipping behind the counter and through a set of double doors into the kitchen. 

“How much energy can one man have at two in the morning?” Nur grunts. They sit across from me at the end of their bench to keep the  _ Nonmund  _ trapped between them and the glass wall.

I run a hand across my face, trying to wipe the tiredness away, “His smile was splitting.” I sit up as straight as I can, knowing that if I let my muscles relax I’ll likely fall asleep.

“Yeah, I could hear it. Maybe he could spare us some energy.”

“God, wouldn’t that be amazing.” I shake my head and let myself release a tired chuckle. I’ll ask when he comes back.” I look down at the menu with every intention of reading it, but the outdated and poorly laminated menu triggers a memory that completely swallows me.

  
  


_ “Mama, why can I not have a soda? Matthew always has soda. It isn’t fair that I don’t have what he does.” _

__ _ Giulia sits across the table from me. We are in a diner that is painted a garish yellow and plentifully decorated with the cornucopia adorned red Concordian flag. She sets her menu down on the table and sighs. “Soda is a very special treat, Ev. Matthew’s family has a lot of money, so he can have a lot of soda.” _

__ _ “But, mama my birthday is tomorrow. That is special enough for me to have soda now.” _

__ _ She gives me a tight-lipped smile and shakes her head, “If you have a soda today, then you cannot have one tomorrow. And what would an eighth birthday celebration be without a soda?” _

__ _ I smile as wide as I can, revealing my missing and crooked kid teeth. “Maybe Matthew can come and celebrate with us?” _

__ _ “I’ll see what I can do.” _

__ _ There’s a tiredness in her eyes, but I’m too consumed with the thought of having a soda tomorrow that I don’t really notice. I’m also a day from being eight, so it’s not like I could really care. “I can’t wait. I don’t think I can sleep tonight.” _

__ _ “Then tomorrow will never come, mijo. Now, decide what you want for dinner. You need to eat if you want to grow up big and strong.” _

__ _ “I want a cheeseburger. I’m gonna be so big and strong.” _

“Everett? Everett? Hey, over there.”

I blink the rest of the fading memory away and I am back in the dingy, cigar-smoke filled diner with Nur and a  _ Nonmund  _ across from me. “Yeah?”

“Can you read me the menu? I’ve been asking you for a minute now. Where did you go?”

_ Reading the menu. Even I had forgotten about that.  _ “Oh, yes. Of course. And nowhere. I’m fine.” I pick up the menu and rest the bottom of it against the table, so it doesn’t flop over and fly out of my grip. My eyes fly to the top of the menu and I begin to list the items, “There’s eggs, french toast, pancakes, and a cheese or vegetable omelet.” 

“How do the eggs come?”

“They can be scrambled, fried, sunny side, or poached.”

“Scrambled sounds good. Are there any options for sides?”

I search the menu and, in the smallest text possible, find a note about sides, “Hash browns, bacon strips, or sausage.”

“Hash browns sound good.”

Once Nur has made their selection, I settle on my own and place the menu aside as we wait for Charlie to return. A moment later, he arrives and sets two mugs of coffee before Nur and me, and places a glass of water in front of the  _ Nonmund,  _ then he produces a small notebook and takes the pencil out from behind his ear, “What can I get you, folks?”

Nur repeats their order to him. 

He turns to me and I say, “A veggie omelet, no side.”

Charlie nods, pen scribbling furiously against the paper, “Sounds good. And you?”

The  _ Nonmund  _ looks almost startled as he is addressed directly, “Um, the pancakes, please.”

“Any side?”

“The hash browns. Thank you.”

Charlie pockets the notebook in his apron and collects the menus, “I’ll place your order. Is there anything else I can get for you while you wait?”

I shake my head, “No, we’re good.”

He smiles and leaves us again. 

I stir a bit of sugar and cream into my coffee until the liquid is a creamy brown and we sit in silence for a minute or two until the silence is finally broken by the  _ Nonmund _ , “What happens when we get to 1-A?”

I drain at least half the coffee down my throat before setting my mug down with a loud sigh, “Well, I don’t know.”  _ That’s probably the most truthful I’ve been in a while. What’s happening to me? _ “Supposing we can find the Dux, we hand you over and figure out how to have this kill order redacted.” He purses his lips and my eyebrows raise, “What? Does that not sound like a good plan?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“It’s fine? Sebastian,” I raise my eyes to meet his. “Why aren’t you scared?”

“Never scared easy.” His eyes don’t shift and nothing about his face twitches. As far as I can tell, he isn’t lying.

“Not even when faced with certain death?”

“Not certain yet.” His stony glare is maintained.

“That’s a ridiculous answer.”

“Everett, why do you hate me?” Now, his head tilts. Compassionate, questioning, inquisitive. He’s trying to knock me off my game.

I don’t let myself physically react to his question, but I clock it as another one of his obnoxious traits: thinking he’s smarter than me. “You’re a little _ too _ different.”

“Nur is blind. Do you hate them?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“They can’t control that.” 

“And I can control this?”

I hesitate, his point finally catching me off guard. He could have asked a hundred different questions, but he asked the one I had no answer to. And, where he may not be able to control how he is born, he can at least control his appearance. Hide at all times. At least feign normality. I readjust my position on the bench - lip curling when my pant leg sticks to the cushion - and run a hand through my hair, composing myself as quickly as possible, so he doesn’t know how far his question threw me, “Why are you avoiding my question?”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” He responds, casually sipping his water.

_ What is wrong with him? Does he think he’s some psychological mastermind?  _ “I still don’t understand why torture is more appealing than freedom.”

His shoulders square and he tilts his head back to center. A cold, closed door comes over his eyes which is something I’ve never seen from him before. “I’ve never been free.”

“Come again?” Again, not the response I expected at all.

He leans forward and drops his voice to a whisper. We weren’t being overheard before, so I think this gesture is just to prove a point. “What you’re offering is no better than the life I am already living. Every day I am beaten down by the world and people like you. I bleed every day for who I am. I was captured long before you even stepped foot into my life. So, don’t pretend my existence was beautiful and now you’re whisking me off to some island of torture and pain. I’ve been on that isle a long time now. You aren’t special.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? A lot of crazy things can happen when my editing actually goes well. I'm excited to have these up for you! Comments and kudos are appreciated as always!

DECEMBER 26 th \- MORNING

The rest of the stop in the diner passed rather uneventfully. Nur and I swapped a few stories about our time with the Venats and Sebastian shut his mouth. Once our food had arrived, we ate quickly and were back on the road in less than an hour. We only have enough coins to get us across the rest of the border crosses, so I hope that we won’t need to stop for gas or be charged extra anywhere. If we were to run out of money before a crossing… that would be devastating. There is no way we could make it all the way to 1-A without a car. The kill order would catch up to us before we got through 3-B. 

The sky has a hazy grey tint to it, signaling the momentary arrival of the sun. My eyes strain against fatigue as the last drops of caffeine slip from my system, causing me to regret turning down Charlie’s offer of coffee for the road. I am still driving, but Nur and Sebastian have switched seats. Nur is now sprawled across the backseat, completely asleep, snoring like they’re alone in their own bedroom. I still want to know how they can sleep so deeply, but decide, yet again, that I don’t really care enough to wake them up and bother them about sleeping habits. So, I drive, content in my thoughts. Well… not really content with them because they won’t stop screaming at me about the fact that I have an unrestrained  _ Nonmund _ sitting next to me. And a voice in the back of my mind keeps telling me that someone is going to hurt me if I don’t kill Sebastian within the next few minutes. The fight against that though is difficult because the words  _ “Kill him”  _ pound at my skull like they’re trying to break out and control me.

“Everett?”

_ Kill him, kill him, kill him, KILL HIM, KILL HIM! _

“Everett, what’s going on?”

_ KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM! _

“Everett, you’re going off the road!” His hand clamps around mine and he yanks the wheel hard to the right, just in time for another car to swerve by us, horn blaring.

“What happened?” Nur’s voice comes from the back seat.

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Sebastian snaps back. Nur settles back into their reclined position and falls silent. Sebastian looks over at me and says, “Everett, you need to pull over.”

I release a shaky breath and blink heavily, forcing my eyes to refocus. “No. I’m fine.” 

“Come on, you’re exhausted. You can’t focus. You’re going to get us all killed.”

“I’m gonna get us all killed anyways,” I mutter, trying to blink through the white spots in my eyes.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

I shake my head, “No.”

“Evre -”

“No!” I whip the wheel to the right again and screech to a half on the side of the road. “You are not in control here. You have no power over me! The only reason you aren’t flayed alive right now is because I need you to get me out of even more shit! So, shut up or we’re going to have a fucking problem.”

“What’s your problem?”

Pain flares behind my eyes and I want to scream, “What’s my problem?  _ My  _ problem? You shouldn’t be able to exist! You’re disrupting the natural order of things!”

“How are we disrupting the natural order? Maybe the order would be more settled if you stopped killing us and started focusing on the real criminals,” Sebastian counters.

“We can address our other issues once we don’t have to worry about people like you.”

“Issues are being created because you are slaughtering us. There are more movements  _ against _ your cause. Many are calling for the Dux’s removal. Why make things worse for yourself?”

“They’re wrong. Those movements don’t have the facts or the intel we do. They’ll continue to run themselves ragged while we keep them safe.” I snort. “And removing the Dux? That will never happen. The entire country will collapse before that is even an option.”

“No one is saying the removal needs to be legal.”

I shake my head with a laugh, “She has thousands of operatives around her and the country every minute of the day. No one would come close to her.”

“Then, what makes you think you will?”

My face twists into a frown, “And you want to know, why?”

“Only curious.”

“Awfully curious to be interrogating me in such a way.”

“An awful lot on the line.”

I hum, “So you continue to say.”

  
  
  
  


We arrive at the next border crossing less than an hour later and a young man comes to my window. “Heading into 3-B?” He asks.

I nod, “We are.”

“Three passengers?”

“Correct.”

“All human?”

A shudder runs down my spine, “Pardon?”

“Are you all human?” I pause further. “Sir, is there something the matter?”

“No, sorry. We are all human.”

The boy crosses his arms over his chest, “Positive? You sound unsure.”

I shake my head.  _ Why do all these kids have to be so observant? _ “I am positive that we’re all human.”

“Word’s come around that someone killed a Mer and now they’ve taken one hostage. We don’t want any of that trouble across our border. 3-B has seen enough trouble as of late.”

My throat constricts, “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Really?” He leans down and presses his hands against the top of the door frame, “You have a cache of weapons in a satchel behind your seat and I think I see some bandages under your collar. So, you want to try your story one more time?”

I open my mouth to respond, but Sebastian speaks before I am able, shocking me to silence. “Is there any issue with preparedness? We had to be ready after a gruesome encounter with a gang back in 5-B. The open road is dangerous and we didn’t want to take any more chances.”

“Oh, really?” 

Sebastian nods, “And I reckon you would notice if one of us was not human.  _ Nonmunds  _ -” He doesn’t even stumble over the word. “- don’t exactly look like you and me. And no human would willingly share the close confines of a car with one. I surely wouldn’t. Would you?”

The attendant appears as flabbergasted as myself. He surely had not been expecting to be told off in such a manner. “I reckon you’re correct.”

“What will our crossing total be?” Sebastian inquires. 

“Ten silver pieces.”

“Of course.” Sebastian places a gentle hand on my shoulder and I flinch at the touch. “Pay the boy.”

“How much?” I ask, hand flying to my money purse.

“Ten silver pieces.” The boy repeats.

“Of course.” I remove the pieces and hand them to the attendant. “Are we clear to continue?”

“Yes. Enjoy 3-B.”

I nod and wait for him to step away before speeding off.

“What was that?” I hiss.

Sebastian nonchalantly shrugs, “What was what?”

_ What do you mean?  _ “You lied to him.”

“Were you not going to?”

“I was, but you… you didn’t even flinch.”  _ Why would you lie for me?  _ Is what I really want to ask. I don’t understand what would drive him to protect me. Not trying to escape, fine. But, protecting me? I don’t even know where to start processing that one.

“Did you expect anything else?”

_ Yes! I did! I expected you to turn me in!  _ “Well, no, I mean, I don’t know.”  _ Where did that response come from? _

“I’m surprised you expected something less from me.” He relaxes his posture. “Moreover, I am surprised you hesitated for so long. Not much for lying are you?”

“I can lie,” I snap, desperately needing to defend and prove myself to him. I don’t need him to protect me. I don’t need his false friendship. His sympathy. Why he would sympathize with me, I have no idea. 

“Yet you don’t. You like to manipulate and mask the truth, but you never really lie.”

_ When did he even have time to notice that? I didn’t even notice that!  _ “I would have come up with something.”

He cocks his head to the side, “Would you have?”

“His question caught me off guard.”

“You were ‘off guard’ for quite a while.”

“I have never been asked if all the passengers were human before.”

“You have never run from yourself, either.” He suddenly twists in his seat. When I turn my head, I see his eyes are wide with fear. “Is there someone following us?” 

I glance in the rearview mirror and I begin to feel the same panic grow inside my stomach. There’s a car behind us. Sometimes the border crossing guards will tail you for a while as protection, but this car is too nice. Too new. There’s nothing inconspicuous about it. “I don’t know… they weren’t behind us before.”

“Was anyone behind us at the border crossing?”

“No.”

“Is it the crossing guards?”

“No.”

“Have we passed any turn off roads?”

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “No. Not yet.”

“So they pulled off the side of the road?” Sebastian’s voice is tinged with something akin to fear. That’s the first time I’ve heard him truly scared.

“Nur!” I shout towards their sleeping form. “Nur!”

They jerk awake, limbs flailing as they sit up, “What?”

“We have a tail. This ride is going to get uncomfortable.” I grind the pedal as far to the floor as it will go. My jaw clenches and my knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. The tension in my chest flares the pain in my shoulder, which only adds to the feelings I’m fighting against. 

Every inch we gain, our pursuer advances double that. The car must be a newer model as my top speed is a crawl in comparison. Soon the car passes to our left and bile rises in my throat. It’s a government vehicle. 

“Pull over!” A man shouts at us through his window.

My teeth grind together, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“Everett Shorey, stop your vehicle!”

I steal a look and see the same two men from my initial encounter with the Dux perched in the front seats.  _ How did they catch up with me? _

“Christ, Everett! Pull over!” Nur snaps. “They’re going to run us off the road!”

“Everett Shorey, pull over! Force doesn’t need to be used!”

The vehicle remains gassed. I will not willingly give in.

“Everett!” Nur screeches when our vehicle is rammed by the one next to us.

We jerk to the side and I fight to keep us on the road. My skin pulls against the stitches, but that’s the least of my worries. “We can lose them!” I snap.

“Are you mad?” Nur retaliates. “They don’t care if they kill us!”

“They won’t kill us!” I’m not sure who I am trying to convince: Nur or myself.

“Do you want to take that chance?”

Another ramming of vehicles prevents my response. My tongue catches between my teeth, blood coats the inside of my mouth and runs down my arm as the stitches tear free from my skin. I make the decision to slow the vehicle, but it’s too late. The third collision sends us careening off the road. The tires catch on the uneven ground, sending us into a series of flips, end over end until there is nothing left but darkness. 


	11. Chapter 11

**TIME UNKNOWN**

The world is spinning when my eyes peel open. The walls around me are a hazy grey and I can’t really make anything out. It feels like cotton is stuck in my throat and there is dried blood coating my cracked lips. I try to take deep breaths and keep myself calm, but the air is thick, gross, and dusty tasting, so it’s hard to fully fill my lungs. I’m finally able to pull in a deep breath, but searing pain in my shoulder forces the air back out. It feels like I’ve been shot again. Every gasping breath aggravates the pain, but at least it’s keeping me conscious. I’m afraid of what will happen if I black out again. I try and force myself to recall the moments after the crash, but there is nothing. No pieces, no snippets. I remember Nur’s piercing screams and nothing else. No moments of semi-consciousness where I felt hands touching and moving me. I don’t remember being moved into a transport vehicle. Was I drugged? The way my head is pounding and my skin feels like it’s about to shed off me, I might have been. 

I am moments from giving up my fight to remain conscious when a booming noise shakes my body. My hands grasp for anything to pull me into a sitting position, but my nails scratch against nothing and the pain in my shoulder keeps me writhing on the ground. Sweat collects under my back and I want to curl in on myself to shelter myself from the humiliation of being so helpless. 

“We told you this didn’t have to end violently.” A voice echoes around me.  _ Why is his voice so loud? _ “I’m going to stand you up and walk you down the hall. Okay?”

I groan, unable to voice an actual response. The noise, however, seems to be enough for the person, because the next thing I feel is two rough hands wrapping around my biceps. Pain rips through my body as I am forced to my feet and I am unable to prevent a whimper from escaping my lips, which elicits a laugh from the person behind me. “A couple flips in a car couldn’t have been good for that arm. Too bad you didn’t think about that.”

My feet drag on the floor and I become painfully aware that my boots and socks have been removed. I flinch heavily as the coarse, uneven floor scrapes the skin from the tops of my toes. “Where… where are we going?” I rasp, eyes still unable to focus. Talking clears some of the thickness from my throat, but only serves to spend needles of pain to the area behind my eyes.

“Don’t worry about that. You’ll be there soon enough.”

“Who are you?” More pain, but I need answers.

“Shut up.”

“Who are you?” I ask again.  _ Please, just answer me. _

The hands around my biceps tighten, nails digging into my skin. My skin is on fire. “You are not in a position to be asking so many questions.”

I am pushed through another series of hallways, only to be thrown back to the ground a few minutes later. I connect painfully with the stone floor and my whole body is shaking. I want to vomit. I want to cut my arm off. I want to  _ cry. _ I hear metal scrape against the stone and I am being yanked back to my feet and shoved onto a chair. My arms are forced in front of me and stuffed into thick metal cuffs. The cuffs extend from my knuckles to halfway up my forearm. My bones feel ready to shatter if I move them too much. Then, the man leaves and I am alone.

Tears pool in my eyes but a voice is screaming in my head,  _ “Don’t cry you pathetic piece of shit! You think you’re worth tears? You haven’t earned tears.” _

“Glad to see you’re awake.” A feminine voice floats through the room. Her tone is light, it doesn’t pound into my skull. 

I can’t believe they didn’t leave me alone for longer. Or… maybe they did. I probably wouldn’t even know if I was missing time. “What?” My voice is so quiet I don’t know if I actually said that or just thought it.

“From what I heard, you hit your head pretty hard in that crash. They didn’t know how long you would be… indisposed. And your vision will probably be out of sorts for a while, but it shouldn’t be permanent.” The speaker comes around the table and her fuzzy form sits across from me. I hear the shuffling of papers before she speaks again. “I am certain you know why you are here.”

_ No… not really.  _ “Where is here?” I ask. Maybe once I know where I am, I’ll be able to fill in some blanks.

“I do suppose you would be confused. Would you tell me exactly what you remember?”

“About what?”  _ That’s not the response I wanted. Why won’t she tell me where we are? _

“The crash.”

I clear my throat, “The drivers… I knew them. Not personally, but I’ve seen them before. They work with the Dux. They wanted me to pull over, but I wouldn’t. They kept ramming the side of our vehicle. Nur was screaming at me. Sebastian was… silent.” I pause. “Where are they?”

“Where are who?”

“Nur and Sebastian. They were with me. Are they alright?”

“Are you looking for adults or children?”

“Two adults.”  _ Come on, they were in the crash with me.  _ “The one is blind. You would not have missed them.”

The interrogator clicks her tongue, “Well, we must have, Mister Shorey. There is no record of anyone being brought here with you.”

_ No, no, no, no, no.  _ “What?”

“You were the only one found on the scene.”

I shake my head, ignoring the dizziness this brings, “No. That’s wrong. This is wrong. They were with me.”

“Your head injury is confusing you.”

The calmness in her voice sends a shiver down my spine and I want to scream, “I am not confused.”

“Yes, Mister Shorey, you are. No one else was recovered from the site.”

“I’m not confused. They were with me. I know they were. Did the Dux put you up to this?” I spit, body tensing.

“The Dux has not and would never do such a thing.” She loudly sighs. “Explain to me why the Dux should be after  _ you _ .”

“We had an altercation. I really need to know where Nur and Sebastian are.”

“I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Where -”

“Tell me about this altercation.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” She chuckles. “Mister Shorey, no one has an “altercation” with the Dux and lives to tell about it. So, what transpired in the said altercation?” I remain silent, praying she will move on. No luck, however. She sighs and shakes her head. “Fine. I was trying to allow you to establish some trust between us. Mister Shorey, did the altercation happen to involve the death of a Mer  _ Nonmund _ ?”

“What?”  _ The Kill Order. Fuck. Of course she would know about it. _

“Mister Shorey you have gotten yourself into a bit of trouble, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know -”

“Mister Shorey you have a Kill Order on your head. So, please. Do not lie to me.”

“If you know all this about me, why did you ask?”

She chuckles, “I told you that I wanted to see if you would at least be honest with me.”

“Why don’t you just kill me? Why go through all this?”

“Well, that’s tricky. No one here wants to get their hands dirty like that, but we also can’t just let you go.”

My teeth grind together, “Where are we?”

“Far east, 3-B.”

Some anxiety rolls off my shoulders now that I have at least one definite fact. The response to the Kill Order unnerves me, though. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Maybe let you stew in a cell so we can straighten the rest of your story out. Maybe we’ll contact the Dux. Maybe we’ll find an outside source to get rid of you. That all depends on one thing.”

“What is…?”

“How honest you are with me during our time together. If you answer my questions I will see about getting you medical attention and a new set of clothes.”

Only once it is brought to my attention do I realize that, not only are my boots and socks gone, but the rest of my clothing is as well. A shameful blush fires onto my cheeks, “What happened to my clothes?”

“We had to give you something to earn back.”

I sneer, disgusted with the comment. “I have rights.”

She snorts, “Sure you do.”

_ What does that mean? What the fuck does that mean?  _ “Come on. This is inhumane.”

“Inhumane? You have an interesting definition of inhumane, Mister Shorey.”

“I’m going to make your life hell for this.”

“Sure you will.”

“What is your name?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“You know mine. It’s only fair I know yours.”

“‘Only fair’, interesting.” She muses over my word choice. “What’s in it for me?”

“You want me to be cooperative, don’t you?” I snap. 

“I suppose I do. I am Head Detective Agata Kruczek. Any other requests?”

I know I shouldn’t push my luck, but the words are out before I can stop them, “Water, maybe?”

“I will see what I can do.” She waves to someone behind me and then says, “Let us start with the basics, shall we? What is your name and date of birth?”

“Everett Amos Shorey. April 15th.”

“What is your age?”

“That’s complicated.”

“I know you’re a  _ Venat.  _ I understand how that works. How old?” 

“Thirty-five.”

“You joined the  _ Venats  _ at what, eighteen?”

“Twenty-one. I’ve been with VenatPradae for fifteen years.”

“Thank you.” The detective loudly turns a page. “Were you employed at  _ Broken Dog Pub _ under Stanislaus Nowak?”

I suppress a flinch at hearing the pub’s name. “I was.”

“What is your mother’s name?”

My breath catches in my throat, “Um, Giulia Amontilla.”

“Are you still in contact with her?”

_ What? What kind of question is that? How can she ask that? That doesn’t make any sense.  _ “W-what?”

“Are you still -”

_ I don’t understand.  _ “She’s dead.”

“Mister Shorey -”

_ I don’t fucking understand!  _ “She’s dead.” I repeat louder.

“Giulia Amontilla is not dead. There is no death certificate bearing that name.”

“I watched a bullet tear through her! She bled out under my hands! I felt her pulse stop! How is she not dead?” I scream, body shaking. Blood races down my chest from my shoulder and I’m sickened by the amount of warmth it brings to my otherwise freezing body.

“So, you have not been in contact with her?” 

The detective’s calm voice sets me off and adrenaline spikes in my chest, “No, Jesus! Why would I try to contact a corpse?”

“I’m sorry if I have offended you, but I am going to ask you to control your outbursts.”

“You just told me my mother has been alive all this time and you want me to control my outbursts?” I snap, angry tears pooling in my eyes. My fear and anger outweighs the embarrassment I feel as I cry.“Are you going to tell me Nur and Sebastian are actually dead, too?”

“Mister Shorey, you know that no one else was in the crash with you.”

“And you say I’m the liar.” I hiss. 

“I am not a liar, Mister Shorey. You were the only one recovered from your car.”

“What did you find at the crash site?” I strain against the cuffs as I am hit with unprecedented despair at the thought of them both being dead. I knew why I cared about Nur, but why did I care so much about Sebastian? He doesn’t mean anything to me. 

“You are not the one asking the questions, Mister Shorey.” She warns. 

“Answer me. What did you find?”

“I believe we are done for the day. You need time to collect yourself. I will be back first thing tomorrow morning.”  _ First thing in the morning. Is it night?  _ “ Water will be brought to you upon my return.”

“And my clothes?”

She shakes her head, “You don’t deserve those yet.

“Detective, please, it’s freezing in here.” I protest, ashamed that I let myself sound so weak. 

“Should have thought about that before you got smart with me.” She closes a file, stands, and struts from the room.

My shoulders slouch forward and I allow my body to become wracked with sobs. The muscles in my back tighten painfully and a cold wind blows over me. My arms grow numb beneath the cuffs, but I am thankful for the relief from the pain in my shoulder. I have stopped bleeding, but now the blood on my chest is dry and irritating. I squeeze my legs together as tightly as I can, trying to preserve some dignity, even if it’s only for my own benefit. 

_ “Everett!”  _ My head snaps up, but I soon realize the voice was only in my head.  _ “Everett, you are better than this! You’ve gotten yourself out of worse. Remember Imna?”  _

Dry sobs wrack my body as I shake my head, “No, no, no, I don’t. I don’t remember. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get out of this. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” The reserved energy is completely zapped from my body and eventually, I drift into a fitful sleep full of dreams that I can’t remember.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you are enjoying this story so far. It's definitely taken a lot of work for me to get it to this point and I am beyond ecstatic to be sharing it with you. Please share any of your thoughts with me! I would love to hear all of them.  
> Also, things do start to get really intense in this chapter and will remain that way for the rest of the chapters moving forward. Just some baseline warnings for cursing, violence, graphic depictions of violence and injuries, and general cautionary warnings.

**TIME UNKNOWN**

A kick to my chair wakes me. My neck creaks as I raise my chin from my chest. It feels like my muscles are going to rip if I move them too far. My body hurts no less than before - if anything, it hurts more - but my vision is completely clear, so I am thankful for that. 

Detective Kruczek rounds the table and I take in her appearance: neatly pinned blonde hair, minimal make-up, cleanly pressed burgundy suit, badge displayed proudly on her lapel. She looks every bit as functional as she sounds. She sets a file on the metal table and her eyes lazily take me in as she sits. “How are you feeling?” I don’t answer. “Everett, I am only trying to be civil. I need you to answer my questions today.”

I thickly cough, which only serves to flare the tension in my neck and not clear my throat. “If I get water first.” 

“Of course. It’s  _ only fair  _ I keep my promises.” She waves and almost instantly someone is next to me with a glass of water. 

“Thank you, but how am I to drink it?” I glance at the cuffs, hoping to have them removed even for a second of relief. My fingertips are purple and there is a dark red rash rimming my upper forearms.

A coy smile twists onto Kruczek’s face and my heart starts to pound. There’s something deeply unsettling about her expression. “Open your mouth, tilt your head back, and hope Sargent Harp has good aim.”

I breathe deeply and lead my head back. I open my mouth and feel the cool glass rest against my lower lip, followed immediately by water flowing into my mouth. I effortlessly gulp down the first few seconds of water before it gets to be too much. I choke and sputter on the liquid. Water spills down my front and a violent shudder ripples through my body. Finally, the glass is pulled away and I fall forward, shivering and gasping for air. I should have known she would try something like that. Her face told me everything I needed to know and I missed it.

“Ready to talk now?” The twisted humor doesn’t leave her voice. She enjoyed that and the thought of her doing it again shakes loose a buried feeling of terror. Someone had done something like that to me before… 

“Y-yes.” I rasp. There is still water and spit dripping off my lower lip which only adds to my humiliation. 

“Good. Because I really don’t want to have to do that again. Play nice and  _ fair _ with me and I can do whatever you ask. There doesn’t need to be any backhandedness going on.” She opens the folder and smooths the top papers in the stack “Am I understood?”

“Yes.” My voice is no louder than a whisper as shame radiates through me. The shame of being caught. The shame of giving into her so easily. Shame is all I have left to feel. But, I can’t let her know that. I can’t let her know how vulnerable of a position I am in. If I let her know then I will lose. And I don’t even know what I would be losing myself for.

“Mister Shorey, upon further investigation and inquiry, more information surrounding the crash has come to my attention. We do believe that you initiated the crash.” My jaw drops and she continues, “Another car was found a way away from yours and it was completely smashed in on one side. There are paint chips from your vehicle streaked against the doors. But, there is no paint from that vehicle on yours, leading us to believe you made the contact. The driver was killed. Can you explain this to me?”

_ How blunt of her. How perfectly crafted and contrived. Something has to be wrong.  _ “I-I-I never. No. No. The Dux’s men. Th-they did this.”

“No, Everett. You did this.” She doesn’t even look at the papers. 

“P-please. I didn’t.”

“If you didn’t do this, then who did?” Her hands are folded over the papers.  _ The papers have to be for show. They can’t actually have a case against me. It has to be an act. _

“The Dux -”

“Has nothing to do with this. You were found behind the wheel yesterday morning. You -”

“Wait. Yesterday morning?”

She nods, “Yes.”

“What time?” 

She finally pulls her hands away and consults the file, “Seven thirty-three. Why?

My eyes widen. “Detective, the crash happened at four or five in the morning.”

“So?”

“How and when did that driver die?”

“She died of blood loss around seven o’clock.”

“So her death wasn’t instant?”

“No. She suffered. Why? Did you hope to at least save her the pain when you killed her?” Kruczek snaps. 

“I didn’t kill her. The crash took place several hours before you found us. The crash may have happened, but it wasn’t me who initiated it.”

“Need I remind you that your vehicle’s paint was found streaked on hers? Is that just a coincidence? I don’t believe so.” She folds her hands atop the file. “Lie to me once more and I will stop being so gentle.”

“I swear to you I am not lying. That car was one of thousands produced in 5-A. Any model could have matching paint. It’s a coincidence. Please, you have to believe me.”

Her hands fold over the papers again. She doesn’t care about the file. All she wants is for me to be out of her way.  _ What does she have against me?  _ “With a murder charge I can sentence you to death. Then, I can legally collect on your bounty and go about my life with a clear conscience. How does that sound to you?”

_ Did she just ignore me?  _ “But, the paint!”

“Mister Shorey, your car was totaled feet from the scene and your paint was on the victim’s. So, unless you can provide actual evidence, then I have no other choice. There are too many strikes against you. And fabricating a story only makes you more guilty.” She stands, flattening her hands down her front to smooth any wrinkles. 

“I think that just sounds like a punishment for a crime I didn’t commit. Don’t I at least get a trial?” I plead.

She smiles, “You just had one.”

The sickening realization about my situation settles over me as she strides from the room. She’s going to throw me back into my prison cell and then I am to be executed. No matter how angry she is, though, that is not proper judicial procedure. It states clearly in our constitution that every legal, human citizen of Concordia has an undeniable right to a proper judge and jury trial. For her to bypass this law and do as she wishes with me… that’s inhumane. I won’t stand for it. 

“Stop! No! I get a trial! I get a judge and a jury. I get legal representation. You can’t do this to me!”

Kruczek freezes right beside me. She looks down at me and a shrewd, cunning, and almost evil look swirls in her eyes. “Mister Shorey, you seem to have forgotten the fine print under our first amendment. Should the Dux issue a State of Emergency or a Kill Order in which an individual has been deemed a public threat or unfit for Concordia society, officers of the law may enact justice through themselves without the consultation of a judge or jury.” My stomach sinks and her smirk grows. “Your crime and punishment will be reported to the 3-B governor and your execution date should arrive to us within the next week. I hope you can be patient enough. This should really go through all the proper channels.” With that, her head snaps forward and she strides from the room. 

“I’ll request an audience with the Jus!” I shout after her.

“No, you won’t. You won’t be given the chance.” Her voice echoes back.

Once the sound of her heels striking the ground have faded, Sargent Harp steps to the table and unlocks the cuffs. I want to cry out in relief at the sight of the black and purple welts and bruises on my skin, but there is nothing for me to be relieved about. Staying locked to this table was the only thing keeping me alive. As long as I was chained to this table there would be more questions to answer. Being released was a failure. Not a victory. 

“Where are we going?” I ask as Harp stands me up, needles shooting through my legs as they’re completely numb.

“To your cell.” He states. “Can you walk?”

My legs protest loudly and the painful tingling only gets worse, but they do not give out. “Well enough.”

“Good.” He leads me out of the interrogation room and down a series of plain, concrete hallways until we stop before a barred cell. He unlocks the heavy bolt on the door, yanks it open and releases his supportive grip from my waist. He then gestures for me to enter - a request I immediately obey. I stumble through the doorway, but manage not to fall. “Someone will be in later to redress your shoulder and bring you some clothes.” He closes the door, locks it, and leaves before I have any further chance to protest.

I shuffle my way to the bed and sink down onto the mattress. My head is spinning and my hands rest limply in my lap. Blood slowly leaks from some of the cracked skin, but I figure it will be a while before I regain full feeling in my hands. I lean back against the wall, unable to hold myself up on my own.  _ I can’t believe this is how I’m going to die, _ I think to myself.  _ For something, I didn’t even do.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little two-for-one! Neither chapter was long enough to post on its own, so I figured I would post them together! Be warned about graphic depictions of an injury.

**DATE UNKNOWN - NIGHT**

I blink my eyes several times to orient my vision and finally take time to examine the cell. There is a short table bolted to the wall on my left and a squat, metal toilet against the wall. There is moonlight filtering in through a tiny, barred window at the very top of the far cell wall. The window is too far away from the toilet, table, and bed, otherwise I would have stood one of them and looked outside. Any further knowledge of where I am would help me tremendously, but I have to settle for orienting myself in the cell. This cell is meant for holding short term residents. I’m not meant to be here long. I would be lying if I said that that didn’t scare me. 

I shiver when an icy breeze washes over my body, realerting me once again to my nakedness. The dried blood on my hands and stomach has begun to itch and flake, but I don’t care, I don’t have the energy to worry about dried blood. 

My attention finally wanders to a thin sheet folded at the end of the bed. I reach over and pull the sheet to me. It’s no thicker than a piece of paper, but any shield against the wind and embarrassment is welcome. I wrap it as closely as possible around my body and tightly shut my eyes, hoping to block out the nagging thoughts of self-doubt and fear that plague me. Being this helpless isn’t something that I have experienced before and it’s really terrifying. There’s no one to help me. No one to tell me what to do. I didn’t really listen to Stan a lot, but he was always there when things got out of hand. Always able to clean up my mess. Before all of this I never had to worry about myself. I never had to worry about failure and what came with that.

“I am not a failure.” I mutter. “I will get myself out of here. I will save myself. This is not the end. I will not die here.”

_ Yes, you will.  _ My thoughts whisper back.  _ You’re nothing more than a murderer. _

__ “Not a murderer. I’m protecting people.”

_ But killing innocents? This is what you deserve. _

__ “No. I am saving people.”

_ No, you’re saving yourself. How selfish can you be?” _

__ “I am doing the right thing. Concordia is a safer place because of me.”

_ I am glad you take such pride in your murderous ways. Blood probably gets you off, doesn’t it? _

__ “No. No, it doesn’t. Please, leave me be.”

_ People like you should never be left alone. _

“Leave. Me. Alone.”

_ You think you’re so innocent. How can you kill so many people and still think you’re so pure? Innocent?  _

__ “Leave me alone!” I shout. 

_ This is probably how Nonmunds feel when you kill them for doing nothing… _

__ Tears track down my cheeks, “Please…”

“No one is here with you.” Sargent Harp’s voice snaps through the cell bars, effectively turning off my thoughts.

“Sorry… A lot in my head. What do you want?”

The door thunks open “Clothes and water.” He sets a folded pile of clothes and a sealed bottle of water on the table. “It’s too late for food, so that will have to wait until the morning.”

“Do you know anything else about how long I will be here?”

“No.” He exits the cell and shuts it with a loud clang. 

I fall back on the bed. I want to dress myself and down the water, but I can’t pull myself back up. Those, like the food, will wait until morning. My eyes close and unconsciousness follows.

  
  


**DATE UNKNOWN - MORNING**

Sun streams through the window as I’m welcomed back to the cruel reality of my jail cell. I groan, my muscles tight as the mattress offered no more comfort than a lone metal bed frame. My throat is thick with sleep and dirt crusts my eyes. I try to raise myself to a sitting position, but a bolt of pain throws me back onto the bed. My shoulder feels as if it had been set on fire. “Of course,” I mutter through gritted teeth. I clutch the wound and force my body upright with a loud grunt. I swing my legs off the side of the bed and laboriously stand. Once I steady myself, I step over to the small table and pick up the bottle of water. Removing the cap requires significant effort, but the icy water washing down my throat is worth it. Unfortunately, as much as my throat appreciates the water, my stomach rejects it; churning and gurgling almost immediately. I groan and place the bottle back on the table, not wanting to risk losing what little I have in my stomach. I stand still for a minute, wanting my stomach to settle before attempting any other movement. Once the churning stops, I think that now would be an appropriate time to dress. But, as soon as I start to move, pain whites my vision and a choked gasp escapes my throat while tears well in my eyes. Vomit climbs up my throat and I sink to my knees before the slimy toilet. I barely bring my face over the bowl in time as vomit chokes and flies out of my mouth.

I fall next to the toilet once I’m done, shaking fingers held over my stomach as though I’m willing it to settle. The nauseating, twisting sensation finally stops and I reach for the water bottle that had fallen to the ground at my side. I wash my mouth, spitting over my shoulder and onto the ground because I don’t have the will required to turn myself around and spit into the toilet. I toss the empty bottle aside and breathe for a few minutes. My chest rises and falls like the entire world depends on it. My heart has slowed down a little, but it is still beating too quickly for comfort. My entire body is covered in sweat, but I have never felt colder. My eyes drag to the bandages and I hiss out a curse. I know what’s under there and I don’t like the thought of it. I reach my unsteady hand up to the bandages and hesitantly begin unwrapping them. I slowly peel back the gauze from my skin and the stench that immediately wafts from the wound almost causes me to wretch again. The edges of the wound are bubbled and inflamed, and a slimy, unfortunately colored sludge is clotted on the pad. I hate that I was right. I hate that this is infected.  _ Why, god?  _ My face twists in disgust and my stomach constricts, leaving me to painfully dry heave as there is nothing left to throw up. Tremors tear up and down my body and my arm muscles spasm as blood tracks down my arm in thick clumps. My heart pounds and my eyes cloud, keeping me trapped on the ground. 

“Harp!” My voice squeezes through my throat, ripping at my vocal cords. “Harp!” I call the man’s name a few more times until my voice gives out and I don’t have the energy to force any more sound. 

A few minutes pass before the sound of boots slapping the ground approaches my cell. Harp’s stocky frame appears and, upon noticing my state, his hands grapple for his keys. “What happened?”

“My shoulder,” I groan, momentarily removing my hand from the wound to show him.

“Christ, that’s bad,” He comments. “Kruczek is not going to like that.” The door opens and Harp kneels beside me, careful to avoid scattered puddles of vomit on the ground. “I need to get you to your feet. This will probably hurt a lot. Please, don’t vomit on me.” He wraps an arm around my chest and hauls me to my feet. The world around me spins and I would have immediately collapsed if Harp wasn’t supporting me. Dark spots swirl in my vision and my feet barely stay under me as Harp leads me out of the cell, down a hallway, and into what appears to be a medical room. The room is white and there’s a bed against a wall, but I can’t focus enough to take in the rest of my surroundings. He lays me on the bed and says, “I need to find the doctor and Kruczek.” I muster a nod and he turns from the room. 

Detective Kruczek storms into the room minutes - or maybe seconds or hours - later. I’m barely conscious enough to care.“What happened.”

“Infected,” I mutter.

“Was it infected when you arrived?” She barks.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Take a look at him. We need him alive.” Kruczek says, allowing the doctor to step past her. “If you can’t reverse this, give me all my options. We will withhold no expense.”

I’m not lucid enough to consider the strangeness of her instruction before I pass out again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**TIME UNKNOWN**

“Mister Shorey, Mister Shorey, it’s time for you to open your eyes. You’ve been resting long enough.” An unfamiliar voice breeches the edges of my consciousness. “Mister Shorey, I know you are awake. No need to pretend. You need to answer some questions for me.”

My eyes slowly peel apart and I squint against the light above me, groaning as soreness cramps my muscles. I think I’m in the same room I was in before I passed out, but I’m not sure. All medical rooms look the same. “What happened?” I croak. “Where am I? Who are you?”

“I am Doctor Orysh. You are in the 3-B Maximum Security Capitol Prison medical -”

“Wait. Capitol Prison? When did I get here? How did I get here?” I ask, anxiety spiking. This is a far cry from the tiny prison I was just in. “What day is it?”

“You were transferred here last night. Today is December 30th.”

“December 30th?” My mind is racing. The last day I remember is December 26th. How long had I been unconscious?

As if the doctor read my mind, she says, “You were in holding at the Outer Bounds Jail for a day and, from what I was told, you spent two days in their infirmary before being brought here.”

“Why was I brought here?”

“They ran out of the supplies needed to care for you. That prompted your early transfer, but you were going to be brought here eventually.”

“My shoulder?”

Doctor Orysh adjusts her jacket, “I had to remove the rest of the bullet pieces from your shoulder and piece the bone back together because the bullet caused a lot of breakage. Luckily, the way your arm was braced, no further breaks were caused. The infection is completely flushed, so all you need to worry about now is not further damaging the break or pulling the stitches. You’re very lucky that were caught the infection when we did. Another day and it may have begun to spread beyond your shoulder.”

“Do you know what is going to happen to me?” I ask. I probably should be more concerned with my health, but remembering Kruczek’s threat of my impending execution overrides that concern.

“She doesn’t. Matter of fact, she has already said too much.” Detective Kruczek’s voice snaps into the room. Doctor Orysh hurriedly leaves the room and Kruczek replaces her at my bedside.

“Why are you here? This isn’t your prison,” I bite. Seeing her sets me on edge and I am suddenly very defensive and very afraid.

“Maybe, but this is  _ my _ case and I didn’t want to hand it over to anyone else. The detective’s here are a little softer on people like you. They think any capital crime should be excused just because you’ve killed a few  _ Nonmunds _ . Sure, you’ve done the people a service, but that doesn’t mean your crimes should be excused.” Kruczek pulls a chair to her and sits. 

“Why even transfer me?”

“Every execution has to go through the sector capital. And, despite my insistence that you are guilty, they want a proper trial.”

“With a jury?”

Kruczek sighs, “Unfortunately. You have two days before the trial.” She crosses her legs, “That’s not what concerns me the most, though.”

“What would concern you more than me having a trial? I thought having me executed was going to be your crowning achievement. You were finally going to have everything you wanted.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were adopted?”

I roll my eyes, tired of her games. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“That’s ridiculous. Even if I was, why does that matter?”

“Mister Shorey, your birth certificate is a forgery, as are most of your immigration papers to Concordia. We ran your DNA upon your transfer here, and the results were quite shocking.”

My eyes narrow. That can’t be true. She has to be lying. She only wants me to indict myself. “What did you find?”

“Your mother is Selene Amorrett. The Dux of Concordia.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


END EVERETT SHOREY TAPE ONE


	15. Chapter 15

**DECEMBER 30th - MORNING**

“Ma’am, he was just told,” I call over my shoulder. 

“Why would she do that? It’s way too early.” The Dux bolts across the room and slides into the padded chair beside me, “Has he had any reaction yet?”

My eyes widen. Kruczek has never disobeyed an order before. “Aside from shock, no.”

“Can you turn on the audio? I want to hear what he has to say.” Her voice is low and tight. She’s angry. 

I reach forward and click the audio button. Immediately Kruczek’s voice filters through our speakers, _ “Mister Shorey, would you like to explain this to me?” _

_ Everett's eyes are wide, chest rising and falling unevenly, “There’s nothing for me to explain to you. You’re lying to me.” _

_ Detective Kruczek consults her file again, “No, Mister Shorey. I am not.” _

_ “My mother is not the Dux. Her name is Giulia Amontilla. I was born in the Federation of Central America. We followed all the proper steps to come into Concordia. I was five years old at the time. My papers are real. They are not forgeries.”  _

The Dux sighs and I lower the volume, “How dare she? How dare she disobey my explicit direction and tell him already. This could ruin everything.” She runs her hands over her face. “And my poor boy. He has no idea.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I ask.

“Yes, and I am glad for it. Convincing him of the truth will be difficult, though. Especially because Kruczek just threw this at him like the information means nothing. He needed to go through the trial. He needed to see my documents. His documents. He won’t accept it from word of mouth. Coming from a legal station, though, would have been enough. He trusts the law. But, this?”

“What if he never accepts you? What if this tinted him forever?”

“He has to eventually. He’s a rational individual. When presented with enough evidence he will come around. He’ll see the birth certificates. The documentation of his birth and the placement of him in Giulia’s care. I don’t think I’ve lost him, but it will be incredibly more difficult now. Damnit, Agata.” The Dux stands and turns towards the table in the center of the room where a pitcher of water and several glasses rest. She pours herself a glass and takes a long drink. “Avalyn,” She says once she’s finished. “I have trusted you for a long time now. Do you think I am making the correct decision in pursuing Everett for this mission?”

I stand and turn to look at her, “I do. Everett is strong-willed, determined, and he knows what he’s doing. He’s been handling himself incredibly, given the pressures. His negotiating needs a bit of work and I don’t think he’s the best liar, but that can all be fixed. He’s also going to need a lot of direction at first regarding his leadership, but you’re the best teacher. You’re making the right choice. I trust you.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to convince him that our mission is good? Is he too hard on  _ Nonmunds _ ? Is he just going to turn on us the moment I tell him about it? God, if Agata had just  _ waited  _ like she was supposed to, then we wouldn’t be in this whole mess. We would have all the answers we needed.”

“I’m not sure… he was really strange towards Sebastian. Sometimes he seemed to be opening up to him, but the next minute he would be threatening and violent with him. I think he’s just confused. Stan and Meredith were really his rocks regarding who he was and his beliefs, so not having them is probably throwing him for a loop. But, with your guidance, I think he could easily come around to be on our side. He just needs direction.” 

The Dux nods, “That’s about the answer I was expecting. And, even though I wasn’t expecting it, killing Stan and Meredith was a smart move. Everett absolutely needed them gone. He couldn’t have anywhere to run back to.” She licks her lips and blows out a heavy breath. “Do you happen to know where Sebastian is? I wish to speak with him about their time together.”

“Yeah, I do. You want me to go get him?”

“In just a moment. I want to know more about your time with him.” She waves me toward her. “Come. Sit.”

“Of course, Ma’am -”

“Avalyn, please. There is no need for formalities between us. I am Selene to you.”

I flush slightly and nod, “Sorry. After spending all that time with Everett, I’ll have to readjust.”

“What do you mean?” Selene asks as she sits.

I lower myself into a seat across from her. “Well, he practically worships the ground you walk on. It was all “the Dux” this and “the Dux” that. He has a bit of resentment, because of the rejection from The Elites, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking of you as the ultimate authority. He believes in and puts the law above everything else. He actually wanted to bring you Sebastian as a way of reconciling his mistake.”

“That was quite clever of him. His request would have been denied, of course, but he was going to confront me and that is admirable. Rather confront your demons and fail, then do nothing at all.” Selene makes eye contact with me and sighs. “Could you remove those contacts? You look so strange when they’re in.”

“Oh, yes. I completely forgot that I had them in. Can’t believe I’ve had those in for all this time.” I lean my head back, stretch my eyelids apart and pinch the thick, cloudy contacts from my eyes, revealing my naturally silver irises. I set the contacts on the table and blink my vision back into focus. 

“That’s so much better.” She tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Did Everett ever question your identity?”

“Not once. He recognized the name Nur Udjang immediately and the brand was enough for him. He’s probably never met the real Nur before, which is why he had such a blind trust.”

“Interesting.” Selene hums. “Do you think that’s because he was desperate for an ally or are you just an excellent actor?”

I shrug, “Both, potentially.”

“Did he have a plan before finding Sebastian?”

I quickly sip from my water, “He did. He was coming to 1-A to declare his independence from the Venats.”

“Then?”

“Then he was going to run. Try to hide from you as much as possible.”

“Did he ever talk about leaving Concordia?” 

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “He never mentioned that.”

“Loyalty. That is good.” She finishes off her water. 

“Aren’t you concerned with him wanting to flee?”

“No. That instinct is only natural. I would have been concerned if he thought to leave the country, though. Do you know the extent of his loyalty to Concordia?” 

I shake my head, “He never really spoke about it. Stan mentioned going back to the Federation of Central America, but he rejected the idea immediately. He was almost offended by it. So, if that means anything to you.”

She moves to refill her glass and respond to me when an alarm blares from the monitors. “What is that?”

I race to the monitors, hands shaking as I focus the video feed, “Selene…”

She appears beside me, “What is it?”

I point to the screen, “Kruczek. She’s dead. Everett's gone.”

“How? Rewind the feed. Now!” 

I tap the monitor and slide the time bar backward until Everett reappears. I resume the video and we both stare at the screen. 

_ “I would like to see the genetic results,” Everett demands. “I want proof that my documents are forgeries.” _

__ _ “You do not have the clearance to see those documents.” _

__ _ “Clearance? The information on those papers is my own blood! I have every right to see it!” _

__ _ Kruczek stands, “You don’t.” _

__ _ “How can you question me if I don’t have all the facts? How can I stand trial under these conditions?” Everett shouts.  _

__ _ “You will deny the results whether you see them or not. You will be found guilty. And you will hang. So, no. You cannot see them.” _

__ _ “Show me!” _

__ _ “No. Everett, you need to control yourself.” _

__ _ “Control myself?” He rises immediately into a sitting position and Kruczek snaps up to place her hands on his shoulders. “You want me to control yourself?” _

__ _ “Everett -” _

__ _ “This is all because of you!” _

__ _ “Everett, calm down!” _

__ _ “Show me the results and I will!” _

__ _ “You know I can’t!” _

__ _ Everett roars, the sound near animalistic, as he sits up, rips the intravenous needle from his left arm and stabs it into Kruczek’s neck. “Will you show me them now?” The action catches her off guard and she is not able to defend herself as Everett continues to punch the needle into her neck. Blood is spurting from Everett's arm and Kruczek’s neck, coloring the floor with dark red splotches. The needle punching continues for another minute before the detective finally falls to the ground, her neck torn to shreds. Everett throws the needle aside, adjusts the shirt he had been dressed in, steps over Kruczek’s body, and leaves the room.  _

“That answered my next question,” Selene comments after a moment's silence.

“Which was?”

“Is he a killer.” __

“I would say so,” I mutter, shock still numbing my nerves. 

“Did you know he was capable of that?” 

I swallow thickly, “Not exactly. I knew he was capable of murder, but not… not like that. That’s something else. That’s something that I’ve never seen before.”

“Yes, that was particularly violent. It was an emotionally driven attack. Guttural. A primal instinct he probably didn’t even know he had. Hopefully, there will not be many more of those in the future. Give in to that instinct and you’re lost for good.” Selene calmly notes, though she sounds incredibly proud of him. 

It does seem weird that she isn’t concerned with him running loose in the prison. What I can see on the screen there’s no alarm lights flashing and no one is coming to address Kuczek’s dead body. “Can he escape the prison? What’s going to happen to him?”

Selene grins her signature ‘I’m about to blow your mind because I know more than you grin’ and says, “What prison? This was my back up plan should he not make it to trial...” She taps the monitor and presses the MAP icon in the top left corner of the screen. I don’t know why I didn’t think to check that before. Instantly, a complex, twisted maze appears and takes over the screen. There is a red dot with the name  **E. SHOREY** blinking above it running away from a large white dot with the word  **BEGINNING** above it. “He’s not in a prison. He’s in -”

“The Labyrinth.” I finish. I can’t believe I’m looking at the blueprints for the most complex and impenetrable military installation on the planet. Only god-like people could escape. “Why is he in there?”

“Avalyn, has anyone ever escaped The Labyrinth?”

“A few people, I think?” I don’t know, I’m not exactly up-to-date on my Labyrinth lore; though, I probably should be, considering my job.

“Ah, Avalyn, this is one of the rare times that you’re wrong,” Selene says with a proud smile. “I am the only one who has ever made it out of the Labyrinth. It’s a Herculean feat and I want to see if my son can do the same. I want to know if he is as prepared as I think he is. This will test his decision making, emotional control, resilience, stamina, and every tactical bone that he has in his body. I have also placed a few… obstacles in his way to test him a little further. A trial would have been much preferable to this, but I’ll take what I can.”

“Where is The Labyrinth? I've never seen any entrance or exit to it.”

She sighs and places a gentle hand on my shoulder, causing me to look up at her, “As much as I love and respect you, Av, that’s too dangerous a secret. Only four people know of its location and only a few more have seen its blueprints.” 

I purse my lips and nod, so she pulls her hand away. I want to ask a hundred more questions about The Labyrinth, but now is not the time. So, I opt to ask a more difficult question, “What happens if he doesn’t escape?”

She pauses long enough for me to know that she doesn’t like answering this question. “Then, he will probably die. But, I have every confidence in him.”

“Would you not save him if it came to it?” I know how she’s going to answer, but I still want to hear it for myself. 

“There are no angels on the battlefield, Avalyn. If he cannot save himself now, then he is not worthy of the title of Dux.” Selene states, shoulders rolled back and face blank, as if she were trying to convince me that she feels nothing for Everett. But, I’ll never be convinced that she doesn’t love him. 

I return my attention back to the screen and see that Everett’s marker is heading towards three dead ends. He is about to find out very quickly that he is definitely  _ not  _ in a prison. Well… the normal kind of prison, anyway. “What now?”

“The alarms are set to go off should his condition change or if he reaches the end. Though, the ending alarm shouldn’t go off for a while. I do want you to stay here and watch his progress, though. Keep track of everything he does. Can you do that for me?”

I nod, “Of course. Do you want to watch him go through any of it?” 

She taps the  **VIDEO FEED** icon and the map is replaced by eight small rectangles that will track Everett’s movements. “No. Your notes shall be enough and all that really matters to me is that he exits. There are eight sectors in the maze and there is a set of cameras for each sector. He will always be on one of these screens. Speaking of, there he is now in sector one.” Everett runs onto the first frame, his feet carrying him at a ridiculous speed. “The exit is in sector five, so be especially attentive whenever he appears in that frame.” She sniffs, the next bit of business obviously already on her mind. “And you said you knew where Sebastian would be?”

I shrug, “I know where he might be. Want me to go get him for you?”

She nods, “Yes. Tell him to meet me in the War Room. And don’t worry about missing the first few minutes of Labyrinth action. Things don’t get nasty until about the first hour. Then, your worst nightmares start to come alive…” She trails off for a moment, but quickly snaps herself out of it with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Well, thank you, Avalyn. I’ll be awaiting your report.” She turns on her heel and strides from the room. 

I run my hands over my face and through my hair, taking a moment to collect myself before I leave. I mean, I just can’t believe that all this is finally happening. Selene has been talking to me about her plans to bring Everett into her inner circle for years now, so it’s weird to think that it’s finally happening. And using The Labyrinth to test him? I wasn’t expecting that at all. 

I glance over my shoulder at the screens and flinch when I see a camera zoomed in Everett’s black and white form pressed tight against a wall, eyes wide, and mouth opening and closing as though he is calling for someone. He was really put together when I was with him - despite the gunshot wound - so it’s really unnerving to see him so distressed; hair sticking in every direction like he’d been pulling at it, shirt wet with dark sweat splotches, lower lip shaking in panic, hands still stained with Kruczek’s blood. The camera finally zooms out a few seconds later and Everett bolts to his left. 

I gulp and draw a shaky breath before leaving the room. My eyes relax under the dimmer lighting in the hallway and my steps echo through the cavernous space. I jog towards a metal staircase that will take me down to the massive pool in the basement. It’s used as a training space and is technically a recreational facility for anyone who works in the building, but not many people use it because they’re always too busy doing something else. I come to the bottom of three flights and stand in front of a pair of glass doors. I push my hands onto the metal plates at the center of the doors and open them; a warm, chemical-scented air immediately blowing around me. Aggressive fluorescent lighting washes over the entire room and my soft soled shoes slide against the wet tile. I stop at the edge of the pool and kneel down, momentarily lost in the sparkling blue water. A loud splash in front of me draws my attention up and I watch as Sebastian’s blurry, underwater form makes its way towards me.

He breaks the surface and pops up to rest his forearms on the ledge in front of my knees, “What’s up, Nu- Avalyn?” He pauses. “You don’t need to be Nur anymore, right? That’s done?”

“It is,” I nod. 

“Oh, thank God. That was so uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be too thankful, yet. The Dux wants to talk to you.”

“About?”

“The time you spent with Everett. How he acted around you. How he may have changed during the course of your time together. Stuff like that.” 

“Where does she want me to meet her?”

“The War Room.”

“Great. My least favorite room in this whole building,” Sebastian grunts, arms tensing as he lifts himself from the pool. “Hand me the towel next to you?” I hand him the towel and he immediately wraps it around his waist once he is standing on the tile directly out of the pool. I stand as well and he asks, “Will you be meeting her there, too?”

“No, I talked to her earlier. She wants me to watch Everett's surveillance.”

“Watch him sit in a cell? That’s exciting,” he mutters sarcastically.

“He’s actually moved on to The Labyrinth.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Things didn’t go well then, I suppose.”

I can’t believe he knew that was part of the plan. “You knew he was to go through The Labyrinth?”

“I knew it was a possibility, but Kruczek’s interviews were supposed to last at least another week before The Labyrinth was even considered.”

“Everett killed her.” 

“W-what? Why? Holy shit,” Sebastian sputters.

“She told him about his mother.”

Sebastian groans and rubs his palms into his eyes, “Why did she tell him so soon? That wasn’t supposed to happen for days. He wasn’t supposed to know about Selene until there was a proper assessment of his mental stability.” He drops his hands and starts walking towards a bench up against one of the walls that has his clothes thrown on it.

I shrug and follow him. I don’t have any answers because I didn’t know any of this was supposed to happen. “We didn’t listen to all of the tapes before she told him, but Selene trusted Kruczek, so she must have thought it was a good time. Or maybe things got out of hand and she thought that telling him would be a way of reeling him back in. Or maybe she just got too cocky, I don’t know. I don’t really have the answers for you.”

“It better have been a good time for her to tell him,” Sebastian’s comment is muffled as he pulls his undershirt over his head. “If he wasn’t ready to be told… that could ruin everything. All of our work will have been for nothing.”

I nod, “Seb, did you know she wanted him to run The Labyrinth?”

“I did.” He doesn’t look up as he buttons his navy blue shirt. “The Dux wants me to be the first one to meet him at the end.”

“So you know where the end is?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, guess I do.”

I’m floored when I find out that Sebastian is one of the four people who know of its location. I can’t think of why Selene wouldn’t trust me with that… “Why does she want you to meet him?”

He smirks, “Why? Are you jealous?” 

I roll my eyes and say, “No” even though I am definitely radiating jealousy.

“Sure you’re not.” He chuckles, but quickly changes the subject. “She probably wants to see if Everett blames me for all of this.” He huffs as he drops the towel and pulls on his undergarments. “If he blames me, then, by extension, he blames all  _ Nonmunds.  _ And, well, I guess that’s why it has to be me who meets him. He doesn’t know that you’re an Ave. He doesn’t even know that you’re not Nur. _ ” _

__ I nod, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I’m just surprised that the Dux didn’t tell me about The Labyrinth. That’s kind of an important next step.”

“That one, I don’t have an answer for. But,” Sebastian grunts as he hikes up and buttons his pants, “She always has her reasons.”

“That she does.” 

“You said War Room, right?” He asks as he kneels to lace his boots. 

“Yeah. She’ll probably want to discuss strategy after you tell her about Everett.” I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I do feel hurt that Selene didn’t think she could trust me with her plan. I’ve been one of her closest advisors for close to ten years, so I don’t understand this newfound mistrust.

“Av,” Sebastian rests a hand on my shoulder. “She trusts you, you have to know that. The plan is just ahead of schedule, so she probably didn’t have a chance to tell you.”

“We’ve been back for four days. How did she not get that chance to tell me?”

“You know how busy she’s been preparing for her campaign and for Everett’s arrival. And she’s only just talking to us about our time together. Don’t let this eat at you. A lot is happening. It’s all going to work itself out.” 

I roll my eyes and shrug off his hand, “I know, but I hate to be left out of things.”

He chuckles and shrugs on his jacket, “Oh, I know. Captain ‘I’m going to battle the Dux because she wouldn’t let me on the Everett Shorey case’.”

I scoff, “She almost passed me up for that idiot Moriah! Moriah can’t even walk in a straight line without someone holding her hand.” I shoot back. “Could you imagine her trying to be blind? The mission would have been over before it even started.”

“Someone’s still upset, I see.”

I chuckle, keeping pace with him as we exit the pool and start towards the stairs, “Oh, only a little.”

Sebastian pushes open the staircase door, “What would you have done if she didn’t put you on this case?” 

“Something drastic,” I mutter. “Probably join the Venats or something.”

He barks a laugh, “Christ, that would be drastic.”

“Could imagine me actually being a Venat?”

He snorts and our feet pound against the metal stairs, “Never. Even if you weren’t an Ave, you aren’t bloodthirsty enough. They would have eaten you alive.”

“Bloodthirsty?” I take a second to continue this observation. “I always considered Venats to be cold-blooded, but never bloodthirsty.”

“Please. Anyone willing to slaughter innocents has to be bloodthirsty.”

“Do you think that’s why she wants to disband the Venats?” 

He shrugs, “Among other reasons. But, yes. They’re too reckless now, too out of control. They operate without any direction and they only believe in satisfying their own needs. Selene never could have guessed they would turn into something like this.”

I nod, “When she had me dig into Nur Udjang’s life… I couldn’t believe it. I mean, there was such hope for VenatPradae _._ Nur and Imna started out on such a, I don’t know, righteous path. At first, they had the same mission as the Dux, but their cause grew too big too quick. Imna started only working for the money because she needed to supply things for her forces somehow. Had the Venats stayed as small and as elite as the Dux’s forces, then maybe things would be different.”

“Do the Venats still think what they’re doing is good? Because Everett seemed almost brainwashed into thinking he was. He never seemed to really… think for himself. It was always what someone else wanted.” 

“Yeah, it seemed that way. But, the other two, Meredith and Stan, were worse. They kept preaching about ‘following the Dux’s orders’ when they don’t know how far from her orders they’ve strayed.”

Sebastian chuckles, “Were those the two you killed?” 

“That was them,” I say with a splitting grin. 

“That was badass. That almost made being tied to a post with a greasy rag in my mouth worth it.”

I wince, “Sorry about that. Everett got a little carried away.”

“He was only doing his job. And, I don’t know,” he smirks. “I think I liked it. Very kinky of him.”

I knock into him, causing him to trip up a few stairs, “You’re terrible.”

He regains his footing and laughs, “Everyone has their things.”

“I cannot wait to tell our next Dux that you enjoy being tied up with filthy rags in your mouth.”

“Oh, how I love a man in uniform.”

“Maybe I should tell our _ current _ Dux you feel that way about her son,” I comment cheekily.

He pales and shakes his head, all joking gone, “Please, do not.”

I smile victoriously, “Don’t make me.”

We exit the staircase and part ways. I walk back to the Tactical Room, not particularly excited to watch Everett painstakingly navigate The Labyrinth. I can only hope the ‘obstacles’ the Dux set up are entertaining. I enter the Tac Room, pour myself a glass of water and set it on the table in front of the expansive monitors. Before taking my seat I roll my shoulders and stretch my arms above my head, groaning as my joints pop and my muscles pull tightly across my back. Skin tingling, I settle into the chair and focus on the feed in front of me. I turn the volume up on the monitor and watch for a few minutes as Everett frantically begins feeling his way along the wall. His feet shuffle awkwardly for a moment before he gains his footing and begins to run through the corridors, his heavy panting becoming the only sound in the room.

  
  
  


Several boring hours pass - I think I was staring at the screens for over ten hours - and I am about to nod off when a piercing cry crackles over the monitors and an alarm begins to blare through the entire room. My eyes fly open and I search the screens until I find Everett collapsed on the ground, a wolf-like creature stalking around him. Despite the black and white feed, I can see blood pooling beneath his legs. A closer look reveals deep gashes on both his legs and jagged bone protruding from his left calf. The break must have been what caused the scream. 

My breath catches in my throat and my heart begins to race as the creature pulls a paw back and is about to strike when Everett rolls over and thrusts a knife or a jagged piece of rock or something into the creature’s stomach. It releases a strangled howl and falls to its side. Everett removes his weapon and pushes himself into a sitting position. His chest is heaving and I zoom in a bit when I realize he’s crying, face contorted in pain and fear. He leans against the nearest wall, chin quivering as tears roll down his cheeks. 

I stand, glass in hand, and turn my back on the screens, not wanting to watch anymore. My stomach churns and my hand shakes as I bring my water glass to my mouth. The water sloshes violently down my throat and it requires all my willpower not to choke. I set the glass down and take a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves. Seeing Everett so… broken had unnerved me. Although he wasn’t at his best when I first met him, I never imagined him ever looking so afraid. 

“I need to tell Selene,” I mutter absentmindedly. I know she said that saving Everett from The Labyrinth wasn’t an option, but seeing him so vulnerable may change her mind. I twist and pick up a portable radio from the monitor desk and press the TALK button, “Sel- Dux Amorett, your presence is requested in the Tactical Room.” I release the button and await her response.

Static crackles over the radio a few seconds later, “I am en route to the Tactical Room.”

I slip the radio into my trouser pocket and wait for Selene, hoping my stomach will settle by the time she arrives. No luck. She turns into the room and my insides are still somersaulting. 

“What’s wrong, Avalyn?” She asks.

I swallow thickly, “I thought you would like to know Everett’s progress through The Labyrinth.”

Her brow pulls together, “Is something wrong?”

“No - I mean - well, yes - I mean,” I sigh. “You should take a look yourself.”

She brushes past me, “You’re acting quite str-” She gasps. “Oh my god.”

“I know. His physical condition -”

“He’s feet from the end.” Her exclamation stuns me. “How can he already have made it there? That’s impossible.”

“What?”

“Look.” I move to see where she is pointing and my jaw drops. “Avalyn, one more corner and he has found the exit. Why did you not alert me sooner?”

“I didn’t, um, I actually, I didn’t realize. I thought the alarm was for his injuries… not for him being in sector five,” I mumble, still trying to wrap my head around the situation. “I was mainly focused on his legs. And what was that thing in there with him?”

“Ah, yes. My Bludhünd.” Pride shines in her eyes. “The most effective tracking and hunting dog to ever grace the earth.”

“That was a dog?”

“Well, mostly dog. Some wolf. Part… something else.” 

“Why didn’t I know about them?”

Selene shrugs, “They were an old project. Highly effective, but before your time here. They mostly patrol The Labyrinth and our other laboratories. But they do an impeccable job.”

“What other projects do I not know about?”

“All in due time, Avalyn. Now,” She quickly changes the subject. “Why don’t you radio Sebastian and let him know of Everett’s situation. He should ready himself at the exit.”

I feel like ten years should have been enough “due time”, but I don’t say anything. I just take my radio from my pocket, click a dial to change the frequency, and hold down the TALK button. “Sebastian, you are needed at the exit to The Labyrinth. Everett is about to make his grand exit.”

Sebastian’s voice immediately crackles over the radio, “Sebastian to the exit. Here we go.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


END AVALYN TAPE ONE


	16. Chapter 16

**DECEMBER 30th - NIGHT**

My feet slap against the metal flooring as I race to The Labyrinth’s exit. Getting this call meant Everett was minutes from completing the maze. I couldn’t believe that he was already at the end. Selene had told me it would at least be a few days before he got out. But, who knows? Maybe Everett was just really good at mazes. Regardless, I have to meet him at the end, or he will emerge confused, hurt, and angry. He will probably feel all those emotions no matter who meets him, but having anyone there will help ground him. 

I descend several flights of stairs, the air growing danker the further I go. The stairwell is narrow and the rusty metal stairs creak and bounce as I bound down them. I have to be careful on the ones that are covered in condensation slime, but I’m not too worried. I do hold a hand over my mouth and nose as a foul, sulfuric smell takes over the stairwell. I don’t know how deep into the earth I’m going, but it isn’t particularly pleasant. “Going up is going to be a bitch,” I grunt when I turn down the last flight. 

I freeze on the last landing when the exit to The Labyrinth comes into view. What I had expected to be a towering set of reinforced metal doors, is actually no more than an ordinary wooden door. The black paint is cracked and chipped and the handle is coated in a dark mold. What I thought would be a tribute to The Labyrinth’s mythical reputation, is really a harsh insight to the inescapable reality of the maze. How poetic.

I remain still until Avalyn’s voice pops onto the radio, “Sebastian, open the door for him. He’s reached the end, but he can’t stand to reach the door handle.”

I swallow thickly and radio back, “Got it.” I pocket the device and walk forward, trying not to recoil when I wrap my hand around the slimy handle. I purse my lips and twist my hand to the left. Surprisingly, the handle offers no resistance and there is an immediate click as the door opens. I pull the door open and gag as the acrid smell of sweat, bodily fluids, and blood hits me. I know Everett hadn’t been in there for that long, so whatever happened must have been beyond extreme. My suspicions are confirmed when I look down and see Everett lying flat on his stomach: shirt missing, torso purpled with bruises, and pants torn to shreds. It takes me a moment to notice the gashes on his legs, and when I do notice, I snap to my right to double over and vomit. I am not usually squeamish, but the sight of bone protruding from flesh and the ungodly smell was too much. I cough to clear my throat of the bile and straighten, trying to ignore the acidic taste in my mouth. 

A groan from Everett pulls my attention back to him. Right. The actual victim. I step forward and kneel beside him. In that moment I let myself forget all the shit he put me through. All that matters is that he survives long enough to become a better person. Which sounds cheesy as fuck, but I really see that in him. I lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and his eyes snap open, “Everett, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s Sebastian. It’s just me.”

“They’re still after me…” He breathes, voice no louder than a whisper. He tries to raise himself on shaking arms, but his shredded fingers are too weak to support him and he collapses. I thrust my arms out and catch him around the shoulders before he hits the ground. “We need… we need to go…”

I shake my head, “Everett, there is no one else after you. You made it to the end of The Labyrinth. You’re safe.”

He raises his head, and his dark, fearful eyes meet my own. “Why was I in there?” He hoarsely whispers. He sounds ready to cry again. I stare at him in silence, unsure of how to answer his question. “Sebastian… why?” He asks again. 

“I don’t think it’s my place to tell you that.”

“P-please…”

“Everett, I need to get you to the infirmary. I have to pick you up so I can carry you up the stairs. I’ll do my best to be careful, but it will probably hurt a lot.”

“Already hurts a lot,” He grumbles, eyes beginning to slip closed.

I sigh, “I know.” I start to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I need to roll you over so I can get my other arm under your knees. So, take a deep breath and relax as much as you can. Can you do that for me?” He slowly nods. “Good. On three. One… two…” Everett breathes deeply. “Three.” I twist his shoulders, slip my arm under his knees, and heft him into my arms in one motion. A strangled cry escapes his lips and his eyes roll back into his head, body falling limp in my arms. “Oh, thank god,” I mutter, glad I won’t have to listen to his pained noises the whole way up. I don’t think I would have been able to handle that.

I ascend the stairs as quickly as I can and pay close attention to Everett’s legs, so they don’t bang against any walls or railings. It’s more than fifteen flights and I have to bang through several heavy security doors to reach the top floor. On shuddering, jelly-like legs and completely out of breath, I finally reach the main floor. The Dux is waiting for me and is seemingly unphased by Everett’s terrible condition. How much of that is an act and how much is just immunity to grotesque injuries, I don’t really know. She huffs and motions for me to follow her to the infirmary. I stay close behind her and we reach the pristine medical wing in minutes. 

“Lie him down.” The Dux directs me to the bed furthest from the door. I navigate through the room and gently lay Everett on the bed, blood immediately staining the white sheets. “Bring the curtains around him. Moving forward, I want the utmost privacy.”

I cough as I try to get some air into my body and wait for her to step beside the bed before I pull the white curtain closed. “Will a doctor be in soon?”

She nods, “Yes. Doctor Orysh will be arriving shortly.”

I wipe a hand over my forehead to wick away the sweat beading on it. “Is she the doctor from before? From when he believed he was in the 3-B Max Prison?”

“She was.”

My mind is racing, I don’t know how to put any of this together. “Won’t that confuse him? Won’t he think he’s still there?”

“If he hasn’t figured out that the ‘Maximum Security Prison’ and everything that came before that wasn’t real, then yes. He will be very confused.”

“How are you going to explain all this to him?”

“Slowly and with a lot of words,” She deadpans. 

I sigh and shake my head, not thinking that response was particularly funny. I know she is trying to compensate for the rushedness of the situation, but I don’t think humor is the best response to all of this. “What if he doesn’t want any part in this? I don’t know about him, but I would feel ridiculously betrayed. Wouldn’t you?”

“Avalyn expressed his unrelenting loyalty to me. I doubt there will be many issues,” she comments, completely failing to understand my concern.

“That was before he knew you are his  _ mother _ . Discovering information like that can ruin a person, especially given the state he was in when Kruczek told him. He may never trust you again.” 

She breathes slowly and flexes her fingers, a sign that she is moments from losing her patience. “Sebastian, I need you on my side.”

I huff, “Selene, I  _ am _ on your side. I’m only trying to be realistic. Things really change when family is involved. He is going to have a lot of questions and you need to be ready to answer them.”

“He will get his answers in due time.”

I chuckle and shake my head, “He won’t like that.”

“Well, that’s how it is going to be.”

“Selene, if you don’t give him exactly what he wants when he wakes up then you lose him. He won’t trust you. That’s it.”

“Where is Doctor Orysh?”

I shake my head. Of course she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. She wants badly to be a part of Everett’s life, but she has no idea how to actually be a mother. Not that I know too much about it either, but I do know that hiding things from your kids is not a great way to start things off. She needed those answers that the trial was going to give her. She has no idea how to deal with Everett.

“I am here.” The curtain momentarily parts and Doctor Orysh steps in. “Sorry, I was momentarily disposed when you radioed.” She snaps on a pair of sanitary gloves that she pulled from her white lab coat pocket and looks across the bed at me. “If you are to remain here, I am going to need your assistance. Yes?” I nod. “Good. Pass me the scissors from the cart behind you.”

I turn and see a metal cart loaded with every medical instrument I could imagine, and even some I couldn’t. I easily find the scissors, though, and hand them to her.

“What is your plan?” Selene asks. She has stepped back away from the bed, but her eyes don’t leave Everett. 

“I need to examine the wounds on his legs. Judging by the amount of blood loss and angle of the bones, I want to handle those immediately. What did this to him?” She asks as she cuts through the remains of his pants. 

“Bludhünds,” the Dux answers shortly.

“That explains it.” Orysh removes the trouser pieces to reveal deep claw and teeth marks still oozing blood. “Hand me the syringe with the orange fluid, a few cloths, and some sterilized pads.”

I pass the requested items to her and ask, “Explains what?” 

She stabs the needle into Everett’s leg and presses down on the plunger. “His blood was not clotting properly. The wounds, although they are very deep, should not have bled this profusely for so long.”

“Why is that?”

“There’s an anticoagulant in Bludhünd saliva. It causes nearly any wound to be fatal if you don’t have the proper treatment. Now, secure his right wrist into the cuff and I will do the same to his left.” We buckle the straps into place and she leans over to secure a heavily padded strap around his ribs. “Hold his thighs. I need to sterilize the wounds on his lower leg, but I don’t want to disturb the breaks with cuffs.”

I nod and push down on his thighs. Small puddles of blood begin to gather under my palms and a disgusted shiver raises all the hair on my arms. 

Orysh uncaps the bottle of clear alcohol. “Ready?” I nod again and she begins to pour the liquid; the wound too deep for just a soaked cloth. 

The moment the alcohol touches Everett’s legs, his eyes snap open and his muscles clench beneath my fingers. A pained cry breaks through the silence and his wild eyes lock with mine. Panic tightens his features and sweat courses down his face. “Make it stop,” He pleads. His voice is hardly above a gasp. 

I want to. God, I want to make it stop so badly. I can’t stand his screaming. I can’t stand to see the pain he’s in. I want to tear my hands away from his legs and make it all stop, but I know it needs to happen. I know he needs to hurt to heal. But, God. I hate it. The pain, the muscle spasms. It reminds me too much of how it felt to have scales ripped out of my tail. That’s the kind of agony I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. 

“You’re almost through, Mister Shorey. All of this will be worth it when you aren’t dealing with another infections,” Orysh notes. “I have to reset the bones and stitch some of the wounds. Don’t be afraid to let yourself pass out. Sebastian, would you roll the entire cart over to me?” I release my hold on Everett and push the cart around the bed to her. The metal bar is slick beneath my blood coated hands and I’m thankful to be rid of it. “Thank you. Now you need to hold his legs again as I set the brakes.” My hands return to his thighs as Orysh begins to maneuver a protruding piece of bone back into place. Everett’s screams scar my ears and I fight to keep my eyes locked on the wall in front of me. Finally, Orysh is done setting the bones and she finds my gaze. “The stitching is a much more delicate process and he may fight it harder. Ready?” Orysh asks.

I nod, “Ready.” I hope he passes out. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

Everett’s breathing has grown harsh and ragged, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to control his panic. “Sebastian, please… plea - ahh!” His head whips back and his teeth grind together, the muscles in his neck straining against his skin as he tries to contain his cries of pain. Tears track down his cheeks and a few moments later he passes out. 

I immediately pull my hands away and stumble out of the room. My stomach lurches and I collapse to my knees in front of a garbage can in the hall before painfully vomiting into the bin. My hands tremor violently as I fall back against the wall, stomach empty and throat burning. I frantically wipe my hands on my pants, trying to clean as much blood as I can.

“I thought you had a stronger stomach than that, Sebastian,” Selene comments as she walks up next to me. How perfectly insensitive of her. A coldness I could always count on.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. The screaming… that was hellish. That was...” I shake my head. I don’t want to mention the scaling. This isn’t about me, so I shouldn’t make it.

She squats down to my left, “You’ve seen people go through that before with no issue. Why was this so different?”

I shrug, “I didn’t know those people. But Everett…”

“He made quite an impression on you. I know you told me that he wasn’t like other Venats, but what is it really?”

“Every other Venat I’ve met were inherently evil and malicious and terrible. They kill to get paid and to satisfy some racist agenda. They didn’t have an ounce of redemption in them. At first, that’s all I expected from Everett, but once Meredith and Stan were out of the way he changed.”

“How so?”

“He started making more of his own choices. He stopped thinking about how his actions would impact other people and, well, he wasn’t… more gentle, but everything he did was more rational. It was about him and making sure that he stayed alive and made every attempt to. There was no more ‘ensuring the integrity’ of the 6-B  _ Venats _ .”

“You sound impressed.” 

“Impressed… confused.”

Selene cocks her head, “Why confused?”

“There were several instances where I easily could have escaped him and he was shocked when I didn’t even try. It was almost as though he wanted me to escape. He even let me wear his spare set of clothes after I left the water. And he constantly seemed like he was battling something in his own head. Something just didn’t seem right.”

“Interesting. I’ll remember to talk to him about that.”

“How long are you going to wait before diving into this with him?” 

She shrugs, “As soon as he is awake.”

I groan and my head falls back against the wall, “You’re not going to give him any time to process this?”

“There will be nothing to process if I don’t talk with him.”

“You just threw him into The Labyrinth, there is plenty for him to process!” I bitterly shoot back. I just disclosed to her that he is in a fragile state of mind and she’s about to go make it worse. 

“I need to know more about him. I didn’t get the trial I wanted, so I need to make up for that.”

I shake my head, “When we were together, he shut down if I tried to ask too many questions. He won’t respond well to you.”

“Sebastian, don’t tell me how to handle my own son.”

“A son who you didn’t raise and who you haven’t had direct contact with in over thirty years.” She opens her mouth, but I cut her off, “And don’t think that spying on him counts. You don’t know him.”

“And what,” She cuts in. “You do?”

“Certainly better than you do.” I hadn’t really meant to get upset with her, but she isn’t exactly being rational. “Selene, let me talk to him first. I was there for him right after The Labyrinth, so if I am there when he wakes up it might help with the initial shock.”

She pauses, face unreadable as she comes to a decision. “Only because I need Everett to trust you.”

I nod, “Thank you, Selene. You’re making the right decision.”

“I know. Seeing Everett in person…” She moves from her squatting position to her knees, hands resting on her thighs. Suddenly the powerful, incredible, fear-inspiring woman in front of me cracks. Her face falls, shoulders slouch and chest heaves as though she is about to cry. I’ve never seen her like this before. “Seeing him reminded me of everything I gave up.”

“Selene, you did what you had to do. Everett had to be raised away from you and from 1-A. The scandal would have been impossible to overcome, you know that.” 

She sighs with a shake of her head, “That was what was best for him, but it meant I did not have the chance to raise either of my children. I never… never thought… after Marianella and her father…” she clears her throat. “I know I have my job and I am wholly dedicated to the fruition of Concordia, but it would have been nice to be with and raise them.”

I nod solemnly and a bit uncomfortably. She’s tried to talk to me about her past husband and daughter, but it has never ended very well. I’ve never been great around kids and Selene has never raised one, so talking about what could have been is only awkward and confusing.

Selene inhales shakily and is about to speak again when Dr. Orysh steps into the hall, “Mister Shorey is stable. His wounds are disinfected, stitched, and bandaged, and his broken bones are set and braced. He’s on a morphine and saline drip to combat the pain and dehydration. He is resting now and,  _ please _ , let him. I will be remotely monitoring his vitals, as I have other business to attend to. But, he is my first priority. As always, radio me if you need anything else.” 

Selene rises to her feet and nods, “Thank you, Doctor, I will. You’ve done good work here.”

Orysh nods, “Anything for you.” She turns on her heel to make her way to her office. 

“Sebastian.” 

I turn my attention back to Selene. “Yes?”

“Would you watch over Everett? I don’t think I can bear it.”

“Of course.” I expected her to change her mind about wanting to sit with Everett. She isn’t ready. I don’t think she will be for a long time. So, now, it’s up to me to find answers for her. I can’t fail. Not like Kruczek did. We don’t have any more room for error. 

She kneels back down and gently places a hand on my shoulder, “Thank you, Sebastian.”

“For what?”

“For not being afraid to talk to me. You keep my head on my shoulders.”

I grin and awkwardly pull myself to my feet as she gracefully rises. “Go take care of your work. I’ll radio you if anything happens.”

Selene gives me a final smile before walking away from me. I turn back into the infirmary and find my way into the cushioned armchair beside Everett’s bed. A large pitcher of water and several glasses sit on a bedside table, so I pour myself a glass and settle into the chair. 

Not wanting to be reminded of Everett’s deplorable condition, I avoid looking at him entirely. I inspect my fingernails, a small stain on my shirt, the frayed ends of my bootlaces, and anything else that even mildly catches my attention. Eventually, I close my eyes to doze off.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	17. Chapter 17

**DECEMBER 31st - AFTERNOON**

My eyes snap open to a sharp cry from Everett. I jump to my feet, and my cup from earlier clatters to the ground. I start to reach a hand forward but jerk it back when his eyes rip open and a feral scream of, “Don’t touch me” flies from his lips. I step back, chest heaving as Everett continues to shout and pull against the restraints. 

“Everett, Everett you need to calm down.” My voice is loud but not shouting. “Everett, no one is going to hurt you. We are trying to make you better. Please, you need to trust me.”

“Se...Sebastian.” My name forces its way out of his throat and, for the third time since I’ve been with him, he begins to cry. “I want my mother.” His eyes wildly search the room. “I want my mother.” Tears race down his cheeks. “My… my… my mother.” His breathing becomes frantic. “My mother… my mother Giulia.” He chokes on the name and realization floods into his eyes as he is suddenly fully lucid. The kind of lucid that sends icy dread into my stomach. “Giulia. My mother.” He repeats. He rises as far off the bed as he can and, with clenched fists and mouth set in a snarl, sneers, “That is her name.” 

I can’t believe how quickly he came to. It’s terrifying that he has so much clarity and so much control. I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to talk to him. He may be the one strapped to a bed, but the way he’s able to talk to people and manipulate them emotionally… that was the scariest thing I saw him do when we were together. I swallow thickly and back out of the room, needing to collect myself. I promised Selene I would keep Everett from succumbing to the shock brought on by his predicament. I inhale and exhale deeply, run my hands over my face, and blow out my lips before returning to Everett’s bedside. His hands have relaxed and he has fallen back against the bed. His eyes, however, have retained their intensity as he stares bitterly at the ceiling. “Everett?”

“ _ Sebastian _ .” He mockingly spits back. 

“Please, I need to talk with you.” 

“About what?” I flinch at the accusation in his voice. “How you believe the Dux is my mother? Did you put me through all these tests to see if I’m worthy or something? Am I on the right track?”

“Partly.”

“Partly? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“The Dux. She is your mother and she wants you to succeed her as Dux.”

He barks a laugh, “How can you possibly say that? That’s not even a convincing lie!”

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I should have just let him stew. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it’s too late now. And it’s not like Kruczek didn’t already ruin things. I can’t possibly make the situation worse. “Everett, we have genetic proof. Your DNA doesn’t lie.”

“But humans and documents do.”

My brow pulls in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, obviously she scouted all of Concordia for the most likely candidate to be her successor, then she muddled a few documents to tie them to her.”

Now it is my turn to laugh. “You’ve got it all wrong. You were the only person she was watching and looking out for. She wanted to make sure that you were on the right path.”

“I would have noticed her watching me.”

“Tommy. Mistress Jenn. Giulia.”

“What?” He snaps and I can tell I’ve hit a nerve.

“They, along with a few others, have been watching you since the beginning; reporting everything back to the Dux.”

“No. Giulia is - was - my mother and Tommy and Mistress Jenn were my friends. None of them are - were - spies.”

“I know it may be difficult to wrap your head around, but they are three of the Dux’s most proficient undercover agents.”

“But I spent years with Tommy. How did I not know?”

“He flew through his training with the Dux. He specialized in deep cover tactics, as did Jenn and Giulia. You never would have known.” 

“No… no. No, it doesn’t make any sense!” His eyes squeeze shut in confusion. “We came here from the Federation of Central America. I have documents. They’re real. I have - I had them. The seal. The raised seal.” His fingers rub together as though he has a paper between them and his words become dredged in panic. “My name. Everett Amos Shorey. My father. Amos Le’on Shorey. My mother. Giulia Katalina Amontilla.”

I lean forward and place a hand on his shoulder, “Everett -”

“Don’t lie to me!” He shrieks, eyes snapping open. 

“You need to hear me.”

“I trusted you!” 

“What?”

“I trusted the Dux. I thought I was starting to trust you. I thought I would try to bargain for your life. I thought that you weren’t all monsters and that there would be something redeemable about you! I trusted…” His eyes fly around the room. “Nur. What happened to them?” 

I pause. I didn’t think he trusted Nur... 

“What happened?” He shouts.

“Nur… Nur isn’t -”

“Bring me Nur.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Why not?” 

“I’m not in a position -”

“Then bring me the Dux.”

“You cannot demand her presence.” 

His fists clench and seething anger radiates off of him. “If she is truly my mother then she will come when I call. Bring me the Dux.”

“No.”

“If she’s my  _ mother  _ then I can demand her whenever I please _.” _

“Everett -”

“Bring me the Dux.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Bring me the Dux.” 

“Everett, no.”

“Bring me the Dux!” Spit flies in my face as he begins screaming over and over again, “Bring me the Dux! Bring me the Dux!” I back out of the room and sprint away from the infirmary.

I desperately try to block Everett’s mad screaming from my mind as I ascend several flights of stairs and burst into the Dux’s private office. “Selene!”

She looks up from the paperwork on her desk, “Yes?”

“You need to go to Everett.” I can barely get the words out because I’m breathing so hard.

She raises an eyebrow, “Why?”

“He’s angry, disoriented, and in a lot of pain. He’s demanding that he sees you.”

Selene sets down her pen and clears her throat, “He just experienced something incredibly traumatic. Those reactions are only natural. Give him time to calm down.”

I run a hand through my hair and finally wipe his spit off my cheek. “So, you’re not going to do anything?”

“Not yet, anyway.”

“What happened to throwing yourself at him the moment he woke up?”

“You convinced me that doing so might not be the best course of action.”

Of course she would use my own words against me. I should have expected that. She always tends to agree with me at the most inconvenient times. “I thought he would need all that time, too, but -”

“But?”

“He doesn’t have enough information and he’s too angry to listen to me. He might listen if it’s coming from you.”

“I’ll think about it. But, until then, we will give him the time and space necessary for him to come to his own conclusions. Whatever those conclusions are will be very telling about the state of mind that he is in.” She takes a thoughtful breath before continuing. “Did he ask about why you were working with me?”

“No. I figured that’s the least pressing thing at the moment. But he was incredibly upset when I couldn’t tell him where Nur was.”

Selene hums, “You do know you can’t tell him the truth? Not for a long while.”

I nod, “Of course.”

“Good. That will be difficult for him to find out about. He put his life into ‘Nur’s’ hands. Learning that he entrusted himself to a stranger? That won’t be good for him.”

“That makes sense. He really values the people that he trusts.”

“I had a feeling he would feel that way. In his Elite training, he thought very highly of himself and what he could give to other people. His trust was practically gold.”

“What a prize.”

Selene snorts, “That it is.” She pushes her papers aside and sighs. “Have you had a chance to watch the tapes from Everett’s initial interviews with Kruczek?”

“I’ve seen most of them.”

“What did you make of his responses?”

I sigh, “I don’t know. Honestly, I’m still trying to figure them out. I can’t understand where his sudden protectiveness and worry came from. And, uh, did you sanction WarTime Interrogation protocol?”

Selene shakes her head and releases an incredibly disgruntled sigh. “I didn’t. The water and those manacles and having him naked… that was completely unacceptable.”

“Could that have been why he killed her? He felt a little too violated and threatened by her?”

“That’s a likely theory. She was hurting him and the only response that made sense was to hurt back.”

I nod and clear my throat, deciding this is as good a time as any to bring this up. “Also, earlier, when I was in the infirmary with him, he said he almost trusted me. I’m not sure how much of that was his trauma speaking or how much was actually real, but it really came out of nowhere.”

She wets her lips and the breath she takes is shaky. She’s about to tell me something she doesn’t like and I might not believe. “Before he was separated from you, were you noticeably trying to gain his trust?”

I shake my head, “Not that I can recall. Why?”

She gestures to the chair in front of me. “Sit, please.”

“Why?”

“I need to share a lot of information with you and not all of it is… pleasant.” I slowly sit and she continues. “When VenatPradae first began, I was thankful for their help. Imna, Nur, and their first few recruits did excellent work and were solely focused on actual criminal  _ Nonmund  _ cases. Imna was a natural leader and people had a lot of respect for her. What they couldn’t see, however, was the hate and prejudice I had tried to carve out of her. In the beginning, she was able to control that part of her and keep it under wraps by using the knowledge and training I had given her, but the farther apart we grew, the more reckless she became. She started accepting cases that stretched beyond criminal. These new cases spanned from noise complaints to petty theft and, where these crimes may warrant a night in jail or a hefty fine, none of them warranted a death sentence. Returning with Imna’s prejudiced darkness was her effortless ability to lie and manipulate. Anytime someone questioned a case, she lied, fabricated files, reported far more aggressive crimes, and villainized every  _ Nonmund  _ she could. 

“This worked for a while, but after spending enough time around her, someone was bound to notice. Venats started questioning her. Not all of them, of course, but enough to threaten the entire organization. Imna knew she couldn’t stage the deaths of multiple Venats, so she decided that her only option was re-education.”

“Brainwashing,” I numbly mutter.

Selene nods solemnly, “Harp, who served as the sergeant in the prison under Kruczek - you know him, went through Imna’s re-education nearly twenty years ago and he’s still in recovery. There’s the waking nightmares, cold sweats, mood changes. It’s terrifying and I’m surprised he partook in any of that with Kruczek. I’ll have to talk with him. Anyways, Imna strips you of yourself, your identity, your morals, everything you thought you knew about yourself until you’re nothing but a shell. Then, she blames it on  _ Nonmunds _ . Through pictures, video, written testimonies, and personal accounts. She smears your people with blood and turns them into the foulest creatures on the earth. She re-trains the newly re-educated until they are better, stronger, and scarier than they were before. The only thing they are left knowing is their name, their loyalty to VenatPradae, and that they need to eradicate  _ Nonmunds.  _ And thirteen years ago…” She clears her throat and blinks the beginnings of tears from her eyes. “Everett went through that.” 

I swallow thickly. I had assumed that bit of information would come, but I didn’t want it to. “How do you know?” I ask. 

“ Jenn had come to me with the news that Everett had been missing for nearly two months. He didn’t return for another ten.”

“Imna had him for a year?” Angry is really the only thing I can feel. How could Imna be comfortable turning people into such monsters?

“Yes. And the results of her brainwashing are terrifying. The victim has hardly any sense of identity and their personality has been wholly replaced by whatever Imna wants.”

“Is that why Everett’s so…?”

“Unpredictable? Yes. Luckily, Everett came back to Meredith and Stan who were on the friendlier end, so they didn’t add to the trauma caused by the brainwashing.”

“They didn’t question why he was gone?”

Selene shakes her head, “Imna summons them to her under the assumption that they are going to be promoted, moved Sectors, or given a specialized training. The anger they return with is then chalked up to them not getting what they wanted.” She clears her throat and pulls her hands into her lap. “Now that he’s so far removed from the original trauma, everything prior to that event is coming back. His past has almost fully returned and his personality is recovering and stabilizing. With that stabilization, however, comes erratic and unpredictable behavior patterns. You most likely experienced his full emotional spectrum.”

My throat constricts and I fight to keep myself under control. “How? How can - how can Imna do that to… to - to people?” 

“There is no cause in the world worth stripping someone of their will.” Selene states. “Harp didn’t even know his first name when I found him rotting in a 4-C prison. The officers there didn’t know how to deal with his violent outbursts and they were frustrated with his inability to recall details about himself. The state he was in…” She shudders. “It pains me to even think of it.”

“That’s why he was so surprised when I didn’t try to escape at the lake,” I think aloud. “He thought that whatever was awaiting me was like what Imna did to him.”

“That’s correct, unfortunately. Everything he is is all thanks to that brainwashing. That’s why convincing him that I am his mother will be even more difficult. And Giulia, well, she was the mother that was stripped away from him. She was the mother he was forced to betray and forget. He had to search into the darkest corners of his mind to find love and, when he found it, he found Giulia.”

I run a shaking hand through my hair and then fold my arms tightly across my chest. “What happens when they remember that they were brainwashed? Or when they recover enough memories that they know something is wrong?”

“Usually…” She clears her throat and won’t make eye contact with me. “Usually there isn’t anyone to help them through it. The memories… they come back so fractured and disoriented and disjointed like nightmares. Most of the time they…” She won’t finish the thought, but I know what she’s trying to say.

“They kill themselves.” The words feel disgusting coming out of my mouth. I hate thinking about suicide. Thinking about how desperate people have to be to get themselves to that point… it hurts me to know that there was no one there for them. No one to give them options or help them through one of the scariest moments of their life. Based on what she’s told me, I think we got to Everett in time, but I’m not sure. 

We remain silent as Selene collects herself and I attempt to process everything she had told me. My mind races and I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing as my thoughts continue to wander to all the gruesome situations Everett could have experienced. I had been subjected to days of torture by a group of Scalers, but they didn’t intend on breaking both my mind and body. When the Dux rescued me I was terrified, in pain, and my pride was shattered, but I still knew who I was and my mind was intact. 

A shiver runs up my spine as I consider the true horror of the situation. “What do we do?” I finally ask.

“I’m going to stay away from him for a while as my presence may only serve to aggravate him. He clearly believes that I am as ruthless as Imna, so I need you to work on convincing him otherwise. Some part of him deeply trusts you and that must be capitalized on.” She wets her lips. “I am also considering bringing Jenn in. She served as what I’ve started calling a “trigger point”. Everett knew Jenn before he joined the Venats, but she wasn’t significant enough in his life for Imna to use against him. His memory of Jenn was only temporarily forgotten, but she was able to gain his trust and he came to recognize her again. She was quietly helping him recover memories during his time in 6-B, so that may benefit us now.”

I nod, “It would.” I sigh and redirect the conversation. “What are you going to do with Everett in the meantime?”

“I’m going to have him moved to a private room tomorrow morning. Orysh gave him the new drug that our resident Felis’ have been working on that helps increase the rate of bone regeneration. That should allow his legs to be fully healed within the next two or three days. Hopefully, that helps to stabilize him in both mind and body. And Sebastian.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to stay with him. You don’t need to spend every moment with him, but you need to explore this bond that he may have with you. Since he can’t have ‘Nur’, he’s going to have to have you.”

“Is he to remain in his room?” 

Lips pursed in thought, Selene considers this for a moment. “Once he is physically healthy enough, I will set specific times for you to take him to any of the training facilities. I will ensure they’re completely empty. Keep him in the room until then. I’ll have meals prepared that you will bring to him every day. Let him know the date and the time, but don’t tell him anything about any worldly events. Don’t tell him about our plan and don’t let him know that I will eventually be visiting him. He has enough to work through. Anything more and it could be too much for him to process. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” 

“I also received a page from Orysh that Everett seems to be displaying delayed onset amnesia due to a head injury. So, tread carefully.”

“Of course. When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. One o’clock.”

  
  


END SEBASTIAN PAOS TAPE ONE


	18. Chapter 18

**TIME UNKNOWN**

The ground beneath me shakes and, for a moment, I think I’m in an earthquake. My heart begins to race and I try to force my eyes open, but a harsh light keeps them closed. I realize I’m in an earthquake when the movement under me falls into a steady rhythm, as though I am being pushed on something. I try to sort through my memories, but all I can find are choppy, foggy bits that don’t make any sense. 

Monstrous dogs. Cold metal. Fear. Pain. So much pain. Pain lances up my body. Pain. Pain. Pain.

⍾ ⍾ ⍾

I am not moving when I wake up again and my senses are much clearer. I drag my fingers across my middle and find a soft, silky blanket covering my lower half. I slightly flex my left arm and feel the pressure of an intravenous needle pressing on the inside of my elbow. I groan and slowly draw my crusty eyelids apart. The light is softer now and the walls are a welcoming cream color rather than a stark hospital white. A heavily draped window stands directly across the room and a plush white chair sits to the left of it. A light hangs from the ceiling and a standing lamp is to the right of my bed. To the left is the pole holding the bags connected to my intravenous needle. While my memory is still incredibly fogging, I know this is the calmest I’ve felt in a long time. 

My eyelids begin to grow heavy and I am about to close them when a door opens to my right. My nerves spike at the thought of an intruder, but I immediately relax when I see it’s Sebastian who has entered. “Sebastian, what a surprise.” My words are raspy and slightly slurred with tiredness. I don’t know if I’m actually surprised to see him or not, but I’m happy to not be alone.

He softly smiles and gently closes the door behind him, “Glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Heavy and tired.”

Sebastian nods and steps to one side of my bed, leaning his back against the wall with his hands deep in his pockets, “That would be the morphine.”

My face screws up in thought, “Morphine? Why do I need morphine?” Is that what’s in one of these bags?

“You don’t remember?”

“My heart hurts when I try to remember,” I mumble in an embarrassingly childish way. “So foggy.”

“You survived quite the ordeal. It’s not surprising your memories are jumbled. You’re probably still recovering from shock,” Sebastian explains. 

“Ordeal? What happened?”

“Are you hungry? Do you need any water?” 

I want to be suspicious of his redirection, but my brain immediately latches onto the word ‘water’. “Yes. Water.”

“Okay. Give me one second.” He steps out of the room and returns a minute later with a glass of water. “I’m going to help you, okay?” I nod and he gently eases one hand below my head and guides my mouth to the edge of the glass. Something about me is uneasy at the thought of someone else giving me water, but my thirst overrides my fear and I eagerly gulp down the water, quickly finishing half of it before Sebastian pulls the glass away. “Take a second to breathe. I don’t want you drowning yourself.” 

I inhale shakily, glad my throat no longer feels filled with cotton. “Thank you.”

“Are you hungry at all?”

“Not now.” Sebastian removes his hand from my head and my head sinks into the pillows. “‘M going back to sleep.” 

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

My eyes flutter closed and the world twists around me before I am consumed by darkness.

  
  
  
  


_ Feet slam against packed earth. Knuckles and palms scrape against coarse walls. Putrid smelling air burns in my lungs. Darkness overtakes my senses. Narrow walls grind against my shoulders. Muscles scream for oxygen. Body slams into a wall before me. The need to collapse and cry is overwhelming, but I turn around and retrace my steps. I turn a corner and inhumane snarls sound behind me. Faster. Legs barely keep me upright. Faster. My chest heaves, I want to vomit. Faster. Hot breath clouds around my ankles. Faster. A jaw snaps around my leg.  _

  
  
  


My chest is heaving when my eyes snap open. My eyes search the room, finding security in the light and softness of my surroundings. My gaze settles on Sebastian who is sitting cross-legged in the armchair and reading a large book. His eyes flash up to meet mine and he closes the book. 

“Sebastian?” I know it’s him, but I need to confirm it. I need to make sure that this is all real. 

He sets the book on the floor. There’s a loud thud. That book is real. “Yes?”

“I want to see my legs,” I demand, forcing my voice not to waver. 

“Why?”

_ Because I need to know if they’re real _ , I want to scream. “They’re my legs. I want to see them.” 

He eases out of the chair, “Are you sure?” 

Annoyed with his dodging, I snap, “I need to know if what I saw was real!”

“Know if what was real?”

“Just show me,” I sneer. Sebastian reluctantly pulls back the blanket to reveal heavily bandaged legs. The bandages are tight and thick and ugly and bruises peek out from the top of the wrappings. Phantom pains burn my limbs and my heart races with past fear. “It did happen.”

“Everett, what are you talking about?”

“My dream.”

“What about it?”

“The Labyrinth. Those were Bludhünds. They must have been. Were they?”

Sebastian slowly nods. “They were. They did quite a number on your legs, but Doctor Orysh set the bones and closed the wounds. They’re healing nicely. You were also given a serum that will quicken the mending of your bones.” 

_ A serum? What did they put in me? Doctor Orysh? Why do I know that name?  _ I’m happy to have some answers, but now I only have more questions. “Why did they do that? Why was I in there?”

“Would you like something to eat?”

My stomach rumbles at the suggestion, “Yes, but -”

“I’ll be right back with something for you.” He slips from the room, leaving me in thick silence. 

I set my jaw and close my eyes, attempting to stem my frustration. There is something deeply unsettling about his avoidance. The fact that he won’t tell me anything only makes me more suspicious. And more afraid, if I’m being honest. “Sebastian,” I immediately call to him when he reenters. 

“What can I do for you?” His voice concerningly cheery.

“You can tell me why I’m here. You can tell me the truth. You can stop  _ lying  _ to me.”

He walks over and places a tray over my lap, “We’ll talk after you eat. Do you need any help?”

“No.” I eye the soup before me. The broth is thin and various vegetables float through it. The needle in my left arm prevents much motion, so I precariously spoon the soup with my right hand. My arm wobbles, but I bring the spoon to my mouth without much trouble. The soup slightly burns my mouth; the sensation in sharp contrast to the dullness of the rest of my body. I swallow and set the spoon down. “Are you just going to stand and watch me? Or are we going to talk?”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Oh my god!” My exclamation is swallowed by bitter laughter. “Tell me where I am. Tell me what day it is. Tell me why I was in The Labyrinth. Tell me anything.”

He pitifully stares at me for a moment. “Today is January 1st. It’s about 4:30 in the afternoon.”

My eyes widen. “January 1st?”

“That’s correct.”

I shake my head, “No. No. No! It can’t be.”

“What’s the last day you fully remember?” 

“December 26th.”

He sighs, “Well, that’s going to be an issue.” 

Trying to resurface memories leaves me with a throbbing headache and mere flashes of events, “We were at dinner. Then… then we crossed into 3-B. The next thing I remember is The Labyrinth. Was I in The Labyrinth for five days?”

He laughs. Why is he laughing? “No. Not even close to that long.” 

I grit my teeth and groan through the head pain. “What happened to me? Sebastian, please.”

He swallows uncomfortably, no longer laughing. “You need to take it slow, Everett. You don’t want to overwhelm yourself.”

“I have holes in my memory, Sebastian! I think I’m already a little overwhelmed!” My body jerks and the tray flies up, dumping the soup all down my front. I throw the tray off me and the bowl cracks against the wall. Sebastian reaches forward to try and help me remove my shirt and I shove his hands away. “Don’t touch me!” He reaches towards me again. “Don’t touch me!” I shriek. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” He turns on his heel and bolts from the room, fear written on his face. 

My chest heaves and I slam my head back against the pillow. The hot soup burns against my stomach but I don’t move to take off my shirt until I have calmed down. I grab the shirt’s hem with my right hand and begin pulling it off. I twist my right arm out of the fabric and bend my neck to clench the left sleeve in my teeth. After a minute of tearing, the thin fabric rips and the soiled shirt falls from my body. I toss the shirt over the bedside and pull the blanket up over my legs and chest. I lay back and close my eyes, avoiding my anger. Anger that Sebastian wouldn’t tell me what was happening, and anger that he left me alone. I didn’t want him to treat me like a child, but I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want to be alone. I never want to be alone again. 

  
  
  


_ “Everett, Everett, honey, come here. The nice man needs to take your picture.” A deeply tanned woman stretches her arms out to me. Strong hands pick me up by my armpits and sit me in a chair. “Sit still, okay? Then, you can have a treat.” She steps back and stands right next to a camera. “Look at mama. Look at me, mijo.” My eyes find her smiling face and light flashes.  _

__ _ “Everett, I have to head out to work. Will you be okay by yourself?” I nod and a smile wrinkles her eyes. She pulls on a coat and kisses my forehead. “Keep practicing your reading. Some of last night’s dinner is in the icebox. Don’t open the door for anyone. I love you, mijo.” She exits the room with a gentle click of the door.  _

__ _ “Everett, we need to be going! We should have left ten minutes ago!” She huffs loudly and rushes up the stairs. “Everett -” She crashes to her knees beside me and pulls me into her arms. She brushes the hair from my sickly sweat-drenched face. “Oh, mijo you told me you were feeling better. Why did you lie to me?” She pulls me into her arms and cradles my head against her chest. “I’m here, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m always going to be here.” _

__ _ “Mama!” My voice rips from my throat. I wrench away from the onlookers holding me back and fall at her side. My shaking hands press against her stomach, trying to stem the blood pooling from the bullet wound. Tears roll down my cheeks and fall onto her pale, motionless face. “No, no, no, no, no. Por favor, mama. M-mama, mama, por favor.” She softly inhales one last time before her eyes fade and she leaves me. “No…” I choke. “No, mama.” Hands wrap around my biceps and begin to pull me from her. “No! No!” I struggle against the grip. “No! Mama! Mama!” _

__ _ Sebastian stands before me, dressed as though he is attending a funeral. His eyes swirl black and his fingers wrap around my throat. “Everett,” He hisses with a disgusting grin. “Giulia is not your mother.”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**JANUARY 2nd - EARLY MORNING**

My eyes fly open and immediately focus in on the newly hung clock and calendar beside my bed. January 2nd, 4:15 am. Seeing the time and date helps to ground me, but the clarity of my dreams fills me with fear, dread, and confusion. I look down at my hands to make sure they are not covered in blood and I release a shaky sigh of relief when they are clean. I try to focus on my breathing, to center myself and forget the dreams, but the pain is too fresh and the screams are too loud. I close my eyes and force myself to examine the dreams to try and figure out why my brain sent Sebastian to say  _ “Giulia is not your mother” _ . 

The harder I look, the less I find. Giulia was an amazing mother. We never had much, but she gave me the world. She always made sure I had a roof over my head and was fed, clothed, and loved. There were no secrets between the two of us because we only had each other two rely on. She believed in me and I in her. It doesn’t make sense for all of that to suddenly be untrue. 

With my eyes closed for so long, the warmth of the bed begins to call out to me and I drift back off to sleep. 

  
  
  


_ “Do you need any help?” I look up to see a fair-skinned woman in front of me. “I couldn’t help but notice you seem a bit lost.” Her voice has a slight Northern European accent to it. “My name is Jenn Tailor. Mistress Jenn, as they know me around the market. Are you new in town? I haven’t seen you before.” My nod stretches a smile across her face. “Welcome! You’re going to love it here. Portside may seem like a small, sleepy town, but there is plenty of character to it. I would love to show you around if you like?” I nod again and she claps her hands together in joy. “Excellent! Follow me. The market is a fantastic first stop.” _

__

__ _ “Nice ta meet ya,” A young, brown-haired boy extends his hand to me. “M’name’s Tommy. Tommy Corrin. You’re Everett Shorey, right?” I shake his hand and nod. “They told me I was comin’ ta work with ya. They said you’s one of the best. I can’t believe I get ta work with ya. This is gonna be the best assignment they could eva give me.” _

__ _ “Everett, you have really let us down.” A full, feminine voice floats through the darkness. “You’re throwing away a promising career and I know neither of us wants that.” A frigid hand caresses my arm and hot breath puffs against my ear. “Pledge your undying loyalty to me and I will forget any of this ever happened.” Her fingers begin to push down the top of my shirt. “I can do wonders for your career.”  _

  
  
  


Sweat coats my skin when I wake and panic courses in my veins. I throw the covers off and curse loudly when I remember I can’t get myself off the bed. I need the water at the other end of the room. I need to pace. I need to get away from this bed. Away from the darkness it’s pulling out of me.

I push myself into a sitting position and consider my options. I stare at my legs, almost willing them to move. I grit my teeth and decide to try and flex my feet. To my surprise, the movement doesn’t hurt, but it requires nearly all my energy. Breathing deeply, I begin to bend my left knee. Again, no pain. My right knee bends just as painlessly. Determining that my legs are in good enough condition to walk, or at least crawl, I look to the needle in my arm. I peel the medical tape off the needle and set my jaw before slowly pulling the needle from the elbow. Blood immediately flows down my forearm to drip onto the bed, but it stops a few seconds later. I toss the needle and tubes to the side and swing my legs off the bed with a loud grunt. Breathing heavily, I plant my feet on the ground and start to stand, but instantly collapse to all fours. I groan and begin dragging myself forward. My forearms rub painfully against the carpet as my legs drag uselessly behind me. 

I make it to the table, panting heavily with sweat glistening on my forehead. I grip the edge of the table and pull myself up, so I am standing on incredibly unstable legs. My hands tremor violently, but I am able to pour myself a small cup of water and take several sips before the cup falls from my hand and water splashes on my feet.

  
  


_ Pressurized water pounds against my raw skin and my jaw is dropped in a scream. The water stops and a voice shouts, “You know who is really doing this to you, Everett. You know who is to blame.” I can’t choke out a response before the icy water slams into my back. The manacles dangling me from the ceiling tear into my wrists and my shoulders strain in their sockets. “The Mers, Everett. The Nonmunds. They are going to continue hurting you. They are going to take everything from you.” Water begins spraying in my face, causing me to choke and struggle to breathe. “Pledge your loyalty to me. Denounce all Nonmunds. This can all stop.” Against the water I can’t do much more than shake my head. Imna finally steps into the edge of my vision and crosses her arms across her chest. “That’s too bad.” _

  
  


I am ripped out of the memory by a hand shaking my shoulder. I find myself on all fours again with Sebastian at my side. “Sebastian?”

“Oh, thank god.” He helps me sit back on my heels. “I came in and you were on the ground shaking and hardly breathing. Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “No… no, I don’t… I don’t know.” I gasp, struggling to take in enough air. “This memory… I didn’t even know I had it. Sebastian, how could I not know those things happened to me?”

He places one hand between my shoulder blades and the other on my chest to try and keep me grounded. “Everett, you could have just experienced a waking nightmare. That might not have been real.”

“No, it was real. I could feel everything. I recognized where I was. And I-Imna -”

“Imna?” Sebastian’s hands tense. “What did you see?”

My shoulders sag, “I-I-I really… really don’t w-want to.”

“It’s okay, Everett. You’re safe here. You can tell me what happened.”

I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to focus on what I had seen. What I had  _ re-lived _ . “I… I was chained to the ceiling. And… and there… there was water everywhere. And it hurt.”

“What hurt?” 

“The water. It was powerful. P-pressurized.”

“Was there anyone with you?” Sebastian asks, trying to guide my conscience.

I nod, “Imna. I couldn’t see her at first, but she was talking. Asking me questions.”

“What was she saying?”

“That everything… that everything was the fault of  _ Nonmunds  _ and  _ Mers _ . A-and that I n-needed to denounce all of them. And pledge my loyalty to her and that everything would stop and that they would stop taking everything away from me and that -”

“Everett.” My eyes snap open. “Everett, you need to breathe.”

“Why did she do that to me? Why would she say those things? Why can’t I remember any of that?”

He gently begins rubbing circles on my back. It’s a gentleness I haven’t experienced in a long time and didn’t expect to get from him. “I’m not sure. But we’ll figure it out, okay? Can you trust me?”

My breath catches in my throat as I am surprised by his question. “I’m not sure.” I want to. I want to trust him because I don’t think he’s a bad person anymore. I don’t think that he needs to die. He hasn’t done anything worthy of being killed, but I also don’t know if he’s done anything worthy of my trust.

Sebastian slowly nods, “Then we’ll get there. Now,” He shifts so he is kneeling in front of me. “How are your legs feeling?”

I shrug, “Weak.”

“Do they hurt?”

“Not really.”

Sebastian smiles, officially lifting the gloom from the situation, “Would you be up for a short walk, then? Nothing too far. Only long enough to get those muscles working again.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” I say with as much positivity as I can muster.

“We can also get you a new set of clothes.”

“And a bath, maybe?” I ask, knowing that I stink of sweat and old blood.

“Are you sure a bath wouldn’t trigger any other memories?”

I shrug again, “I don’t know. But, I know that my knight in shining armor will be there to protect me if anything does go wrong.” I don’t really know what I’m saying or where any of this friendliness is coming from, but some part of me knows that it’s okay to trust him.

Sebastian chuckles, “You’re probably mocking me, but I do take that as a compliment.” He momentarily pulls his hands away from me to tie his hair back, then his smooth hands are back around my biceps. “Let’s stand, okay? Lean against me as much as you need to. There’s no need to rush.” 

Sebastian’s hands wander my torso, applying pressure to my back, sides, stomach, and shoulders until my upper half is straight. He holds me close against his chest and begins to stand. My legs shake as they take my weight and my knees feel made of jelly. I hiss as my calf muscles threaten to knot painfully if I move too much and I feel completely disconnected from my thighs. I slowly raise my left foot and try to step forward, but my foot connects too quickly with the ground and I stumble forward, only saved by Sebastian’s arms wrapping around my middle. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispers gently in my ear. “Let’s go to the door, okay? If that’s as far as you can go today, that’s alright. The bathroom is right outside the door, so we don’t have to go any further than that. Alright?”

I am suddenly very annoyed by the gentleness of his voice. Imna’s shouts of  _ “The Mers. The Nonmunds”  _ pound in my ears as my mother’s dead body takes over my vision. The half of me that  _ hates _ Sebastian is now tearing at my skull. It’s begging me to wrap my hands around his throat. It’s punishing me for accepting any of his help. It’s clouding my vision with fear and hate and distrust.  _ He’s the enemy,  _ my thoughts scream.  _ He’s leading you to your death. This is all a lie.  _ “Why are you helping me?” I grind out, fingers becoming claw-like against Sebastian’s arms. I want his answer to send the voices away. My rational brain knows that he isn’t going to hurt me, but every bit of primal hate and anger inside of me is overriding any reason. 

“Everett, you’ve been through a lot in the past few days. I want to be here for you.”

“Why?” That answer doesn’t help. It only makes me feel more pathetic. More angry at myself for even considering him as a friend. My jagged fingernails threaten to pierce his skin as I find his eyes. They betray confusion and sympathy. Pathetic. 

“You need someone with you right now. You -”

“Why are you tricking me?” I throw him away from me, toppling him into the short table. The cups and water pitcher fly into the wall and the thin table shatters under his weight and he crashes to the ground. I stumble over and stand over him, extending my torso as much as possible, though my shoulders are still hunched. “I don’t need help from a  _ thing  _ like you.” My mouth sets in a sneer as I feel the memory of my mother’s dead body in my arms. “You did this to me.” 

Sebastian’s eyes widen in fear as he stumbles for a response. “E-Everett, you’re not - you’re not thinking.” 

I don’t break eye contact as I lower myself to one knee and pick up a sharp splinter of wood. “You made me into the  _ monster  _ that I am.” I raise my arm above my head and am about to lunge when I feel something pinch the back of my neck. My fingers relax and the wood drops silently on to the thick carpet. My shoulders sag and my head rolls forward as my body is consumed by numbness and, I too, fall against the carpet.


	20. Chapter 20

JANUARY 2 nd  \- NIGHT

I am still on the floor when I wake up, but Sebastian is gone and the table has been replaced with an identical one. I raise myself up on my forearms and spit carpet fuzz from my mouth. My muscles have knotted tightly in my neck and back, so maneuvering myself into a sitting position requires a lot of grunting and wincing. I scoot backward until my back connects with the front of the armchair. I straighten my legs before me, breathing through a bout of tension when the muscles stretch and pull tightly until they finally relax. The bandages around my legs are starting to unravel, so I lean forward and take them all the way off. Due to the thickness of the bandages, I expect to find that the wounds are still healing, but all I find are thick, puckered scars. I trace my fingers over the uneven skin and shudder as the sounds of snapping teeth and savage growls ring in my ears. My head drops to my chest and my eyes close as I try to silence the noises. “What happened to me?” I mutter. 

I sit in silence for the next few minutes, focusing on my breathing and the sounds of the room. The chair squeaks with the slightest movement and the radiator on my left hums and the pipes clank as it comes to life. I close my eyes, both hoping that another memory will come to me and praying that I don’t see anything.

_ “Everett.”  _

I flinch. My eyes are still closed.

_ A hand rests on my shoulder. “Everett, you have really let us down.” _

I’d seen part of this memory before. 

_ The hand continues down my chest and under my shirt. Hot breath curls around my ear. “Pledge yourself to me and to my cause. I will forget any of this happened.” _

My eyes squeeze tightly. I don’t want to know this. I don’t want to see it. 

_ Another hand travels down the other side of my chest and nails from both hands dig into my skin. “I don’t want to have to hurt you. You’re far too valuable to keep hidden for so long. And a lot can change in the year.” Silence causes the nails to press deeper and I feel my skin about to break. “You must think that you’re being so brave. You must think you are protecting all of those Nonmunds that you have befriended.” The nails pierce my skin and tiny drops of blood start to pool around her fingernails. “Their names. Their locations. Those will all come out. Your strange... perversion towards helping the enemy will be gone.” Her hands move to the collar of my shirt and she tears it open, the buttons flying in all directions. “Protecting them will only hurt you. Trusting them will only get you killed. I am giving you one last chance to tell me where they are and to pledge your loyalty to me. If not for me, do it for yourself. Do it for your dead mother who was slaughtered by Nonmunds. Do you think those Nonmunds are worth protecting? If they are ready to kill, then so is every other Nonmund you will ever encounter. Save yourself, Everett. I know you want to. I know you can.” _

_ For the first time, I speak. “I will never give you them. Your mission is corrupt. Your genocide has no warrant. I won’t be a part of it.”  _

_ Her nails stab back into the skin below my clavicle. “Wrong answer.” _

  
  


My eyes open and I immediately look down at my chest, suddenly very aware of the faded, crescent shaped scars on my skin. I had never known where they had come from and I had always assumed they were from my childhood and that’s why I didn’t remember them. 

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to shake the feeling of hands touching me. An uneasy prickling dances up my spine and I feel like someone is watching me. I feel like there are tiny bugs crawling all over me. I don’t want to be watched or seen, but I don’t want to be alone. I want to know where Nur is. If… if they are even who they say they are. Nur could possibly not even be Nur. But, I don’t… I don’t want to think about that. I want at least Nur’s identity to be true. I want to know what they know. I want to know why Imna did those things to me. I want to know why I am missing time and why it is only coming back to me now. I want to know what happened to me, but I am terrified of what I might find. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


END EVERETT SHOREY TAPE TWO


	21. Chapter 21

**The following are a collection of memories recounted during E. SHOREY’S two weeks in isolated recovery.**

  
  
  


**Warning:**

**Many of the following memories contain explicit depictions of torture [both physical and mental] and explicit racist rhetoric against AD-HUs [Advanced Humans].**

**Readers should proceed with caution.**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Look at them!” Imna barks and stabs her finger at the screen in front of me. I won’t raise my eyes, so her other hand knots in my hair and forces my head up. I close my eyes, not wanting to give into her. “I want you to witness the destruction and the terror that the  _ Nonmunds  _ bring. Everett!” He fingers tighten in my hair, threatening to pull it from my scalp. “Open your eyes!” I keep them closed. “Everett!” A set of claw like nails stab into my left wrist, causing my eyes to fly open. Imna pushes my head forward and towards the small screen only a few feet in front of me. On the screen is a Felis raking its nails down the front of a child. The next picture shows a Felis dangling a dead baby from its extreme canines. The next is a pair of Felis shredding the skin from a grown woman. “Everett,  _ Nonmunds  _ are monsters. They kill for the sake of killing. They are bloodthirsty animals.”

“No. Not all of them,” I respond. 

The nail drags up my left forearm, tearing through skin and muscle. I flinch against the pain and I clench my teeth, but I don’t scream. “If one of them is like this, they are all like this.”

“You have three pictures. I could show you three pictures of humans killing other humans for no reason.”

“You are making this so much harder than it needs to be.” The nails scrape against bone and I finally scream.

“Aves don’t even have any genetic advancements besides lighter bones and advanced vision. They aren’t more dangerous than humans. There’s no reason to be killing them.” I state, forcing myself not to shake against the freezing water streaming down my body. I am chained to the ceiling, body completely stretched as my toes hang a few inches above the ground. “Why are we killing them?”

“They have the potential to mutate further. Could you imagine if they unlock the mutation that would allow them to grow wings?” Imna continues to circle me, her black hose dumping ice cold water above my shoulders. “Your friend from childhood, the one who drowned. What was his name?”

“Matthew.” 

She raises the hose above my head and hums, “Matthew. A strong name. Who drowned him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who drowned him?” She asks again.

“I don’t know.”

“Who drowned him!” She screams.

“I don’t know!” 

“An Ave!” Dirty water dumps into my mouth and I choke on it. Water burns out of my nose and my eyes bulge as I can’t bring in more air. I can’t breathe and Imna keeps screaming, “An Ave did this! An Ave drowned Matthew! Killed a boy for nothing! An Ave! Ave! Ave! Ave!”

“A cat o’nine tails. A simple, yet incredibly effective weapon.” She brings her arm forward and snaps the barbed ropes across my back again. Spit flies out of my mouth as I cry out. My full throated screams stopped about twenty lashes ago. She rounds to the front of the pole I am bound to and takes my chin in her hand. She raises my face and I stare into her uncaring eyes. “Who is doing this to you? Why is this happening?”

Enough self preserving adrenaline runs in my veins for me to spit in her face and say, “You.”

She throws my chin back and snaps the whip against the ground. “The  _ Nonmunds! _ ” I watch her bring the whip up and slam it down onto the front of my right leg. I would have instantly collapsed if I wasn’t tied to a pole. Another lash draws blood. Four more darkens the concrete below me. My whole body shakes with exhaustion and pain and I flinch when she barks, “The  _ Nonmunds  _ are doing this to you! I am simply trying to convince you of that! I am trying to save you from yourself!”

She throws the whip aside and cuts me down from the pole. I drop to the ground and can’t register anything else she says to me. 

“Everett, you’re nothing.” Imna yanks me back against the chair and I hiss when the action aggravates the wounds on my back. Her hands inch downwards to wrap around my forearms. “You are a killer. It’s what you were born to do. You like the way it feels when blood seeps out of their bodies and onto your hands. You like the way they scream and cry and beg you for mercy. You love the hunt. You love the power. The control. The dominance. The ecstasy that comes after every kill. You could never survive a normal, mundane life. You wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I… w-would be… f-fine.” I strain against exhaustion and my body wants me to give up. 

Her fingers delicately trace the long scratches up my arms as she  _ tsks  _ and shakes her head. “Why do you continue to lie to me? Why do you continue to lie to yourself? I thought we moved beyond that.”

“You will n-never… never con-control me.”

“I don’t want to control you. Oh no,” she leans in uncomfortably close to my ear. “I only want you to reach your full potential. Submit to me. Tell me the names of your  _ Nonmund  _ friends. Then, this will all be over and you will have everything you ever wanted.” I pause and she moves her hands down to cover mine. “Are you ready to work with me, Everett?”

“No.”

Her hands clench around my broken hands and she snaps her teeth inches from my ear. “Wrong answer.”

“Everett, who is our enemy?” Imna circles my kneeling form. My wrists are shackled in front of me and my ankles are shackled and chained to the floor below me. I am exhausted. “Everett. I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Who is our enemy?”

I force myself to look up at her. My whole body shakes as I inhale, “You.”

I flinch as her spit flies onto my face and my shoulders sag as she says, “Everett, I need you to trust me. I need you to listen to what I am saying. I am not the enemy. I will never be your enemy so long as you are on my side. And I believe you will be on my side. I believe we will work well together.”

“You’re a monster. You aren’t helping anyone.”

The tip of a stiletto dagger presses against my left cheek and she scratches it across my skin, only deep enough to draw a few drops of blood. “I am not the monster, Everett. I am only trying to make Concordia safe. I am only trying to rid the world of what doesn’t belong.”

Once she pulls away the dagger I weakly shake my head, “No. They aren’t trying to hurt anyone. Humans have always evolved. They have always unlocked more of our DNA.”

“And with every evolution comes the extinction of those before them. How long before we are the Neanderthal?”

“We are all going to die anyways. Isn’t it better for them to evolve? That means they may survive whatever is coming next for the world.”

“So you are content with being less than them?”

“I am content with not killing those who don’t deserve to be killed.”

She slices across my right cheek, “Not the answer to my question. Tell me: are you content with being less than them?”

“If it means saving innocent lives.”

“Not the answer!” Another swipe across my cheek. 

“Yes,” I finally gasp. “I am content with being less than them.”

She sighs and traces a finger over the cuts on my right cheek and I can feel her smear the blood on my skin. “What an… unfortunate answer. And after all the time we have spent together. I can’t believe you still think you can defy me. It shows for your spirit, I suppose.” She kneels in front of me and cups my cheek. I try to flinch my face away, but her hand holds me in place. “But, that little spirit of yours, is mine. You belong to me. Signing yourself over to the Venats signed your life into my hands. I will get you to do what I want and I will get you to see as I see. And I have all the time in the world.”

“Everett, I want you to make a choice for me. In front of you on your left is a  _ Nonmund.  _ A Felis to be exact. On the right is an eighteen year old human male. Pick one to die. A point of your finger will do just fine. Who is it going to be, Everett?” My hands shake and her hands tighten on my shoulders. “Who is it going to be?”

“I can’t make that choice. I can’t sentence innocents to death.”

“If you do not choose, they are both going to die. If they both die, I’m going to continue bringing pairs in until you make a choice. How long is it going to take for you to realize that some lives are more important than others?

I shake my head, “Stop, please. Don’t make me -”

Two gunshots. An identical bullet hole through the foreheads of both victims. Men in dark jumpsuits run to the bodies, drag them off, and return with two more sedated victims. “All of this can stop with just one word. One gesture. What is it going to be?”

Their half open, groggy, far-away eyes stare across the room at me. Despite their barely conscious state, I know they can hear Imna. They know what’s waiting for at least one of them. I know they’re both silently pleading for their lives. “I can’t be the judge -”

Gunshots. I flinch. Their bodies are taken off and replaced again. “How many rounds do we have to go, Everett? Why do you continue to waste human lives? Surely, this is worse than choosing who lives and who dies? You already have four deaths on your conscience. It doesn’t need to be more than five.” 

I stare at the new people sitting in the chairs. My shaking hand rises. A gun sounds. A body drops. Imna claps her hands on my shoulders. “I knew you would make the right choice in the end. A  _ Nonmund  _ is never more important than one of us. Always remember that.” She turns her head and calls to one of her men. “Kill the rest of the  _ Nonmunds _ .”

“No! No! That wasn’t part of the deal!” I screech when I hear at least ten guns sound. There may have been more than that, but I couldn’t tell. 

“You made your choice. By condemning one, you have to understand that you condemn them all. At least you made the right choice. It would have been devastating to kill fifteen innocent humans.”

“F-fifteen?”

“Don’t worry, Everett. You’re making progress. I’m proud of everything we accomplished today.” 

“What are their names?” She slides a pencil into my hand. “Tell me their names and you will save yourself a lot of pain.”

“What are you going to do to them?”

She chuckles and continues to lazily run her fingers through my hair. “What did I tell you about silly questions like that? I don’t want to have to hurt you simply because you forgot what we do to  _ Nonmunds _ .”

“What if I don’t give you the names?”

“Then you’re going to be cleaning your own blood off this floor and we’re going to storm through everyone who even had a conversation with you. They might be dead for glancing at you in passing. Anyone you know could be a  _ Nonmund  _ and I’m not ready to let any of them go free. Not while I have the perfect source right here to help me prevent unnecessary slaughter. So, what’s it going to be? A couple of  _ Nonmunds _ or dozens of bodies rotting in the streets of 6-B? It’s all up to you.”

The names are hardly legible as I scratch them onto the paper in front of me.

Blood drips off my lower lip and onto the floor between my hands. My knees grind painfully into the ground as I try to twist away from the steel-toed boot ramming into my ribs. I steal a glance up and see a screen rolling footage of a Mer tearing out a man’s throat. Another screen shows a group of Aves tearing a couple limb from limb. The third is a Felis assassinating government figures. The fourth is a Mer and an Ave working together to slaughter school children. The fifth is Mer drowning sailors at sea. The five other screens bear similar scenes and all I can hear through the beating is screams and pain and fear. The boot is the same as all the others in the videos. The fists inflicting the same pain onto me as the Mer and Ave beating the children. A rib snaps and I gasp in both pain and realization that maybe all of this is because of the  _ Nonmunds _ . Maybe I had to feel all of this pain to realize how inhumane they are. To see that the path Imna is on  _ is  _ righteous. Maybe admitting they’re evil will make this stop. Maybe hating them will make my life better. Maybe genocide really is out only option. 

“The  _ Nonmunds _ !” My voice cracks through pain.

The boot stops and Imna’s voice floats down to me. “What about them?” Her voice is eager. 

“This is… this…” 

She kneels beside me and places a hand on my shoulder. “This is what?” 

“Their fault,” I whisper. 

She smiles and I immediately start to sob. My arms give out and I fall onto my elbows, tears soaking the ground beneath me. 

“It’s okay, Everett. Everything is going to be okay.” She runs a hand through my hair until I eventually pass out.

My legs pound against packed dirt and my chest burns from lack of oxygen. I can hardly see as sweat drips into my eyes, but I keep going. I have never gone this fast in my life. I have never pushed myself so hard. But Imna needs me to. She needs me to be fast, she needs me to perform, she needs me to be the best soldier. 

“Everet, do not slow down now!” She screams. “A  _ Nonmund  _ is about to run your mother through! Are you going to let that happen?”

“No, no, no, no, no.” The words aren’t any louder than my panting breaths, but it’s enough to give me a final burst of speed to knock the second runner down before he can reach our dummy victim. I tackle him onto his back and pin his arms above his head. His silver eyes meet mine and I see red. An Ave. My mother was killed by an Ave. 

“Kill him, Everett!” 

I hesitate. 

“Kill him!”

The knife on my belt grows heavy. 

“Kill him now!”

In a second the knife is in my left hand and one more cry of “kill him” drives my knife into his neck. I twist the seven inch blade all the way into his flesh before ripping it out, unflinching as he chokes on the blood spurting from his neck. His once vibrant eyes fade to a dull grey before he falls limp under me, a pool of blood under him the only sign that he was once alive.

“Good work, Everett. I grow more proud of you each day.”

I kneel before Imna, head bowed in reverence. She lowers herself to one knee in front of me and places a hand on my right shoulder. “I am so proud of you. So proud of everything you have done and of how far you have come in this past year. You have become more than I ever thought you could be. You have shown me every bit of power and strength I knew you had inside. You are going to be one of the most prolific fighters I have ever had the opportunity to train and work with. You are going to allow for the change we need to see in this country. You are going to revolutionize the world. I am sending you back to 6-B. Defend our borders with all your strength. Do you accept this mission?”

I raise my eyes and nod, “I do.”

“Then go. And purge Concordia from the filth inside.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	22. Chapter 22

**JANUARY 14th - MORNING**

I’m not sure what I am expecting when I walk up to the double wooden doors leading into Everett’s recovery room. Sebastian has assured me that I don’t have anything to worry about, but Sebastian is also much more confrontational than I am. He’s more of an empath than I could ever be, so talking to people after a crisis and after trauma is his forte. What I’m good at… well, I’m good at reading and watching people. I’m good at being supportive and open when I’m tasked to do it. Otherwise, I’m just a blubbering mess. I don’t know what they want me to get out of Everett. I have no directions other than: “Talk to him, keep him company for a few hours, report back anything he says to you”. Honestly, I don’t know why they’re letting me see him already. I don’t want to make matters worse even though Sebastian said I would probably be making things better. I pull my hair back into a bun at the back of my neck and look the doors up and down again before removing a key from my jacket pocket. I step forward and push the key into the lock below the door handle and turn it with a loud click. I take a deep breath and turn the handle, preparing myself for all the possibilities of what could be waiting for me. 

The smell is what hits me first. Like wet mold. It smells like your grandmother’s attic that hasn’t been entered in years. I pocket the key and enter the room, concerned that I don’t see Everett yet. I had expected him on the bed or in the chair by the window, but he isn’t in either of those places. I step further into the room and slowly turn, finally pausing when I make it across the room and find him huddled in the small corner on the far side of the bed before the wall. He’s only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and his knees are tucked up to his chest. He is shivering despite the fact that it’s at least seventy degrees in the room and none of the windows are open to let in any breeze. 

I kneel a few feet behind him and gently call out to him. “Everett?” His shaking suddenly stops, but he doesn’t turn to me. “Everett?” I ask again. “Everett, you don’t need to be afraid of me.

He slowly turns his head and I see his eyes are red with dark circles puffing the skin beneath them. His hair has grown to an unruly length and greasy strands hang in his face. His skin is tight against his bones and only then do I notice trays and trays of uneaten food piled on the other side of the room. That’s probably where some of the musty smell is coming from. I bring my eyes back to Everett and see him staring at me, eyes filled with recognition. “J-J-Jenn?” His voice is raw from disuse and probably from screaming as well. 

I nod and inch myself forward. Not close enough to scare or confuse him, but enough to show him that I’m not afraid of him and can be trusted. “Yes, Everett. I’m right here. You can trust me, okay?”

“You… you… you’re r-real?” 

The pain in his eyes breaks my heart. He shouldn’t have to feel this way. It isn’t fair. “I am. I am real. I promise.”

His head snaps back away from me and I hear him mutter, “No. No. No. You’re not. You’re not real. You’re just in my head. Just like every other time. You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real.”

I inch close enough so I can place a hand on his shoulder. Initially he flinches away from the contact, but then allows himself to settle backwards into it. “Everett, you don’t need to worry anymore. I’m going to be right here for you. Whenever you are ready to talk, I’m here. I’m here to listen to you, not judge you. Just like how it’s always been.” 

I place my hand on his other shoulder and we sit in silence for a few minutes until his shoulders start to shake. Not from cold or fear this time, but from the sobs wracking his body. His chest heaves and wet sobs catch in his throat. He twists himself around and suddenly his face is buried in my chest and his hands are tangled in the lapel of my jacket. I readjust my hands so one is cradling the back of his head and the other is flush between his shoulder blades. My blouse is quickly soaked through with his tears and he’s almost choking me with my own collar, but I won’t let go. I will never let him go. I try to make out his muffled words, but I’m not even sure if he’s fully coherent.

Before Imna took him, we were really close. When he wasn’t on a case, we spent a lot of time together. We had a lot of trust in each other. It took a long time to establish that trust once he came back and it was… it was never really the same. But, we had each other’s backs and that’s what mattered.

We remain like this until Everett has cried himself out. He sucks in breaths, body shuddering with each one. “Jenn?” He croaks. It’s only my name, but it’s the first really audible and coherent thing he’s said in the past few minutes. He starts to pull himself away from me, hands falling from my collar. His eyes are even puffier than they were earlier. There are streaks through the grime on his cheeks and it strikes me that if he hasn’t been eating, he likely hasn’t been showering either. 

“Yes?”

He sits back on his heels and swipes his hands under his eyes. His uncut nails scrape the skin on his face, leaving red lines in their wake. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” I also sit back on my heels to match our level.

“For this…” He looks down in shame. He pulls his hands up and holds them in front of his chest. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Don’t deserve what? I don’t understand.” I do understand, but I want him to say it. I want him to talk through what he can. 

“I’m a m-monster,” he says through a hiccup. His arms shake and I realize why he brought his hands together. He’s afraid of what his hands have done. “I… I… all those people that I hurt… that I killed. None of them deserved it. None of them should be dead. They… they- they should all be h-here. A-alive.”

I want to reach out to him and comfort him, but he’s hunched himself over and I feel like he needs a little space to himself to process all of this and to protect himself. “Everett -”

“Don’t say that it ‘wasn’t my fault’,” He snaps. He keeps his head down, but his hands rip apart and he clenches them into fists. For a second he’s still before he starts to bang his fists into his knees. “It was. It was my fault. I did that. I hurt those people. I ruined those lives. I am a monster. You should just kill me. It’s my fault. It’s my fault.”

“Everett, you were a good person before Imna took you. You  _ are  _ a good person. It’s not your fault that she did that to you.”

“I should have realized it sooner.”

“Everett -”

He slams his fists onto his thighs, raises his head and screams, “I should have realized it sooner!” I force myself not to flinch as spit sprays from his mouth and there are tears in his eyes again. He drops his head with a shuddering sigh and whispers, “Jenn… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I take this opportunity to move forward and place a hand over one of his fists. I know telling him that it’s okay and that I forgive him will only aggravate him, so I move on to something that might actually help him. “We’re going to get through this, Everett. We’re going to work through this. I need to know that you trust me. It’s going to be hard, but you need to promise me that you’ll at least try.” He hesitates for a long time, but finally relaxes his hand a little, so I can slip my fingers in and squeeze his hand. “All I need you to do is try.”

He raises his eyes to meet mine, unshed tears glazing over the exhaustion in them. “You promise you’re never going to lie to me or keep things from me?” His words are small and terrified. 

I know I shouldn’t make that promise, but I have to. He deserves the truth and I’m not the one to keep it from him. “Yes. I promise to never lie to you.”

“Then, I promise to try.” He pauses. “I… I trusted you before… I can do it again.”

“You can. You can always trust me.”

Now he squeezes my hand. He may be speaking to me, but the squeeze is the first sign that he really understands what I’m saying and that he understands the closeness between the two of us. 

“I want to start by getting this room and you cleaned up. You’re going to be moved into a different space, but getting this one cleaned up might help clear your head. I can get you something else to eat too, if you’re hungry. Even just some crackers to snack on while we work.” I want him to eat something. I know a big meal won’t settle well in his stomach, but he needs the energy food will give him. 

He slowly nods, “Crackers… would be okay. Could I… water?”

“Of course. I’m going to step out for just a second, okay?” He squeezes my hand one more time before letting go with a nod. “I shouldn’t be gone more than ten minutes.” I slowly stand and leave the room. 

As soon as I close the door behind me, Sebastian jerks away from the wall and steps to my side. I should have known he would be waiting there for me. “What’s it like in there? Is he okay?”

I shake my head, forcing back the tears from my eyes. I can’t cry. If I cry then I might not go back. If I cry, it’ll scare me away. “Um… well, he’s definitely not okay. I think he remembered a lot of stuff from his year with Imna and that just… I don’t know. He’s convinced himself that he’s a monster and he… he asked me… he asked me to kill him.”

The color drains from Sebastian’s face, “That’s not good.” His words are slow and quiet, like he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“No, it’s not. But, he trusts me. I’m going to get him some crackers and water and then we’re going to start cleaning up the room.” I push a loose strand of hair out of my face and sigh. “He hasn’t been eating. The food he’s been getting… it’s just piled up in a corner. Most of it is totally rotten. I’m hoping that cleaning the room will help clear his head a little, but he’s in really bad shape.” I clear my throat and jerk my head towards the other end of the hall. “Want to come with me? I promised I’d be back in less than ten minutes.” It seems Sebastian needs a distraction almost as much as Everett does.

He nods and we turn to head away from Everett’s room. We pass a few other empty suites, a bathroom, and a janitor’s closet before coming to the small kitchen. The chef that comes in usually provides their own specialized ingredients, but there’s always a few snacks tucked away in the cupboards. The kitchen is rather tight, as the chef never really has to prepare meals for more than two people in any given time, but it’s still larger than a normal kitchen in a single-family home. I have to stand on my tiptoes in order to reach the cupboard above the sink and remove a box of plain butter crackers. I pull a large plastic cup down from the next shelf and turn the sink knob to cold water. 

“Jenn?” 

“Yeah?” I don’t turn to Sebastian.

“How do you do it?”

I turn off the water and set the cup on the counter next to the sink basin. I know what he’s going to ask and I know he’s going to hate the answer I give him. “How do I do what?”

“How do you… deal with all of this? You’ve been through Everett’s whole journey with him and you never…”

“Gave myself away? Broke? Lost my cool?” I fill in the end of the question for him. He asks me this almost every time we talk. “Sebastian, you know why.”

“I get that you’ve been trained in deep cover and all that other stuff, but that can’t be it.”

My training… that’s not even close to being it. Training only taught me how to use the tools I already had. “Sebastian, you’re a very emotional person. You don’t know how to separate your emotions from your job. Which isn't a bad thing because you do excellent work, but that’s something you will never understand about deep cover.”

“If you don’t show emotion, how did you get Everett to trust you? How did you make any of this work?”

I shake my head and finally turn to him, resting back against the counter. “It’s not that I don’t show emotion, it’s that I know crying and feeling sorry for someone won’t solve their problems. It won’t solve my problem. I was always happy to be around Everett and our friendship was real, but I always knew that there might be a time when I had to make a difficult decision if he got himself into trouble. I always knew things might go bad. And I always knew that it would probably be me making that decision, so I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way.” I cross my arms over my chest and sigh. “Observe and react appropriately. No more, no less.”

He stares at me for a minute and I can tell he’s trying to get a read on me. Trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or not. Apparently satisfied with whatever he finds, he pushes off the counter across from me and says, “I’ll figure out the rest of whatever you’re hiding.” 

I roll my eyes and pick up the cup in one hand and the box of crackers in the other. “Whatever you say.” We step out of the kitchen and stop before heading down the hallway. “Are you going to Selene? Report to her real quick?”

He shrugs, “Maybe, but there’s not much to tell. I might just go for a swim. Check in on Avalyn. She hates that she can’t really be a part of this.”

I nod, “Sounds good. I’ll find you as soon as I can. And Sebastian,” I stop him before he turns away from me. “Take care of yourself. Yeah?”

His lips pull into a tight smile, “Yeah. I’ll try. Thanks, Jenn.” He turns away from me and I stand alone in the hallway for a moment.

I take a deep breath and turn to face Everett’s door at the end of the hall. Anything that I’ve gone through in my past is irrelevant, so I push the conversation I had with Sebastian aside and start back to Everett. When I get to the door I tuck the box of crackers under my arm, open the door, and reenter the room. Now, Everett is sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap. His head snaps over to the door when I come in, but I see recognition in his eyes when his expression softens and he lets out a tense breath. 

“Hey, Everett.” I gesture to the space next to him. “Mind if I sit next to you?” He shakes his head, so I walk over and sit. I take the crackers back in my other hand and extend the water to him. “Here. I’ve got the crackers, but I want you to get some water for you first.” 

He accepts the cup and shakily brings it up to his mouth. His hands are shaking so much, I’m surprised he doesn’t spill any down his front. He takes a few sips before lowering the cup. “Thanks,” he whispers. 

“Of course.” I open the box of crackers and pull out a sleeve. I set the box on the ground and tear open the plastic. I pass the open end over to him and he hesitantly takes one. “Just take it slow. You don’t want to upset your stomach.”

Everett stares at the cracker, eyes boring into it like it’s the one thing that can end his life. His fingers pinch it so tight that I’m sure the thin cracker is going to burst into a million pieces. He finally brings the cracker to his mouth. I try not to stare at him, but I’m astounded by the fear in his eyes as he slowly bites into it. He chews with a disturbing amount of intensity and swallows so thickly you’d think he was swallowing concrete. I watch as he suppresses a gag, face twisting into a grimace. He struggles to finish the rest of the last three bites of the cracker and I hear his stomach growl against the little bit of food. 

He stares at the sleeve of crackers and shakes his head, “I can’t.”

I pull the sleeve away and slip it back into the box. “That’s okay. Just make sure you get another one later.” 

He nods and takes a few more long sips of water. I’m surprised that he’s so eager to drink despite how upset his stomach sounds. 

“What now?” He asks.

I point to the far corner of the room, “I suppose the garbage should go out first. Unless you want to take a shower and clean yourself up first. I’m okay with whichever would make you feel best.”

“I think we should clean first. Then, I won’t get all dirty and have to shower again.” His voice isn’t much louder than a whisper and I don’t like seeing him so defeated. His shoulders are hunched forwards and he won’t raise his head when he speaks. This is not the Everett I knew before. This isn’t even a version of Everett that I could have imagined would ever exist. 

“That sounds like a plan. Let me get that cup and I’ll pull the garbage can over. Just worry about throwing things away. Someone will be in to deep clean once we have you set up in a new room.” I take the cup and set it on the ground next to the cracker box and walk over to the large, cylindrical garbage can next to the door. I drag it to the other side of the room and set it down beside the large pile of trays and mashed, rotten food. “Come on, Everett,” I say over my shoulder when I see that he hasn’t left the bed. 

He blinks and seems to snap out of whatever daze he was in. He slowly stands and shuffles himself over to me. He doesn’t say anything as he bends down and begins pulling trays over to him. I move out of the way as he starts tossing things into the can. His brow pulls together in focus and I can see the strain that all the movement is putting on his body; chest rising and falling unevenly, muscles rippling under his skin every time he pulls them too far, jaw clenched and grinding his teeth together. It’s obvious that he’s not trying to think of anything except getting the trays into the garbage. 

I sit back on my heels a foot or two away from him, absolutely transfixed by how intensely he is slamming tray after tray into the can. He may not look the same or have the same amount of confidence that I remember, but in every internal, intricate way, this is the Everett I know. The dedication to a task, the perseverance, the need to always complete what he starts. For as long as I can remember, he’s always completed everything he set out to. He’s always believed in his ability to finish tasks. But, he’s never believed in his ability to start them. He’s always needed a push. Always needed someone to point him in the right direction. That’s probably a lot of what is going to happen here. He knows that what happened to him isn’t his fault and everything that happened after Imna was completely out of his control, but he’s going to need guidance and step-by-step instruction. He needs someone to tell him that it’s okay for him to trust himself again. 

If I’m being honest, that’s where Selene might lose him. If I don’t report back to her that Everett is in perfect health, she’s going to throw a fit. Then, knowing her, she’s probably going to storm down to his room, try and force him to accept her mission, yell at him when he’s overwhelmed and confused, and lose him entirely. I respect Selene, but she has no business being in Everett’s life until he is rested, is taking care of himself physically, and is able to talk through what Imna did to him. He may be able to recognize the fact that everything he did was completely fucked, but it is going to haunt and terrify him for a long time. And that makes him a risk. If he gets even one wrong impression from Selene, he may run. 

No. Not may. He  _ will  _ run. He won’t let himself go through that again. 

“Jenn?” 

I raise my eyes and see that he’s facing me, most of the tension released from his body. The corner is also empty save some crumbs and a few stains. “Yeah?”

“The corner is empty.” His words are strong and there’s some pride peeking out. He knows he did a good job and I know that makes him feel good. 

I smile softly and nod, “Yeah, you did a good job. You want to head into the shower now?”

“I do.”

“Go on ahead. I’ll stay right out here, yeah?”

He nods, “Yeah. Can you see if you can find me a pair of clothes? There should be some in the dresser, but I don’t know for sure…”

“Of course. Go on into the shower and I’ll take a look for you.” 

I think I see a sliver of a smile on his face before he stands and turns to the door immediately behind him. He clicks the door open and slips in. He doesn’t open the door too wide and I assume that’s because the room is also a disaster and he doesn’t want me to see it and be disappointed. 

I sigh and find my way over to a dresser along the wall opposite me. A lot of furniture had been added during Everett’s stay in this room. The dresser was one of the newest additions, but it looks like it hasn’t been touched during its week long stay in the room. Dust coats each handle and the top of the piece. No wonder he didn’t know if there were clothes in here or not. I yank the top drawer open and find several shirts and sets of pants. I select a white cotton shirt and a black pair or button pants. I open the next drawer down and grab a set of black socks and dark blue boxers. 

  
  
  


Approximately fifteen minutes later, the water shuts off in the bathroom and I hear Everett calling for me. I pick the clothes off the top of the dresser and go to the bathroom door. “Want me to come in?”

“No! No, uh, sorry, just open the door a little and I can grab them.” 

I crack the door open and hold the clothes in. I don’t even see Everett before his hands are snaking out to grab the clothes from me. He snatches them and the door slams in my face. There must be something on his body that he doesn’t want me to see. Which is strange because he was just mostly naked in front of me for the past hour or two. But, maybe he realized something when he was in the shower that made it worse for him. It’s not like it’s really any of my business, though. He’ll tell me about his scars and pain when he’s ready. We’ll work our way up to that. For now, I’m just glad that I was able to get him into the shower and moving around. That feels like enough of a win for today.

“Are you okay in there, Everett?” I ask once he doesn’t say anything for another five minutes. 

“Um, yeah. The button on my pants was just giving me some trouble.”

That sounds like a lie, but I don’t push it. I don’t need him to think that I don’t trust him. 

When he finally steps out of the bathroom, my breath catches in my throat for a moment. With his hair slicked back I can see just how gaunt his face has gotten. His cheekbones stick out like shale on a rockface and the bags under his eyes drag his eyelids down to make his eyes seem both larger and smaller than usual. His eyes are bloodshot and I figure that he was crying in the shower. There are new scars on his cheeks and along his neck that I never noticed before. The thin, puckered and jagged lines stand out against his tight, pale skin. 

“Is everything okay?” He asks.

I snap my attention back to his haunted eyes and nod, “Yeah. Everything is fine. You want to go for a walk down the hall?”

Some sort of light flashes in his eyes. “We can do that?” The light immediately fades and he drops his gaze. “I can’t. You shouldn’t let me out.” His hands grasp at his shirt. “You shouldn’t even… you shouldn’t let me have these things.”

I take a small step forward. I hold my hands in front of me to try and appear non-threatening. “Everett, you need clothes. And it’s okay that you’re wearing them. We don’t have to go for a walk yet if you aren’t ready. But you can’t stay in this room forever.”

His hands clench and he shakes his head, “I’m not safe. I’m just going to hurt someone. You should never let me leave.”

“Everett, you're not dangerous anymore. You know that Imna put all of that into your head.”

“Why did it take me so long to remember it all?” He growls. “If I really wasn’t like that, then I would have been able to break out of it sooner.”

“That’s not really how it works -”

“Then how does it?” He cuts me off. “Are you going to take me out there to run some tests on me and make me some lab rat? You gonna use me? You gonna turn me into some killing machine? You gonna make me… make me keep being like that?” 

Him thinking that we want to weaponize him makes me stomach churn. He has no idea that we’re trying to help him. “Everett, you said you trusted me, right?”

He slowly raises his eyes and nods, “I said I would _ try _ .”

I sigh. Of course he would throw that back at me. “I need you to trust me when I say that we have no intention of hurting you. We don’t want to weaponize you. And we certainly don’t want you to do any more killing.”

“We?”

My face falls and it takes every ounce of self control I have not to curse myself. “The ‘We’ doesn’t matter right now. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Now it’s his turn to step forward. His hands slowly fall to his sides and his haunted eyes bore right through me. “How can the ‘We’ not be important?” He spits. I don’t want to say that I’m afraid of him, but his complete shift in demeanor catches me off guard. “I have had my life stripped away from me. I have nothing left to give and you expect me to trust you when you won’t even tell me anything. If I’m going to be trapped in this room, I at least expect to know who my jailer is.”

“Everett, you aren’t trapped -”

“But, I am not free!” He furiously wipes spit from his chin and looks up at me with rage in his eyes. “Tell me!”

“Now is not the time for me to tell you all of that.”

“I just sat here for two weeks remembering my time in a place worse than hell only for you to stand before me and tell me that you can’t tell me who is going to ruin my life next!”

It’s strange to me that he keeps asking who is keeping him because, from what Sebastian told me, Everett was fully aware that he was in the Dux’s care. Maybe his time here has made him question the truth of that or the memories of Imna distorted his sense of reality, but all I really know is that this is an advantage to me. If he doesn’t know that he’s under the care of the Dux, I can hold that knowledge as leverage to get him to do things I want. “Everett, I will tell you.”

His eyes soften and even go a bit wide. Surprise. That’s exactly the reaction I was hoping for. “You will?”

I nod, “I will, but you have to do a few things for me first.”

His shoulders relax and he swallows thickly. He wants to listen to me, so he must know that continuing to shout and make himself appear threatening will only turn me off from answers. “What things?”

“I want you to take that walk with me. I want you to eat a few more crackers. And I want you to talk with someone.”

“Talk with someone?” He swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing almost the full length of his throat. “Who do you… why do I need to talk to someone? Can’t I just talk to you?”

“Everett, if you ever want to know who is… holding you here, then you’re going to need to talk to a lot of different people. If you can’t talk to other people, then I don’t think you’re ready for more answers.”

“Who do you need me to talk to?”

“Sebastian.”

He jerks backwards, arms flying up to cross over his chest. “No.”

I’m confused by the fact that he remembers Sebastian, but not the Dux. I don’t know what to make of it. “Just for a little bit.”

“No.”

I sigh and take a small step forward. “Everett, he can help you get some more answers. He was with you most recently and can help you fill in some blanks.”

“What blanks? What am I missing, Jenn?” He snaps. Hair falls in his face, so I can only imagine the rage that is in his eyes. 

“I think it might help for you to -”

“No! No, it will not help! I remember everything! I don’t need his fucking advice! I don’t need him to come here and make things worse!” He takes another step away from me. “I don’t need him to tell me that it wasn’t my fault because it was!” He stabs a finger into his chest. “I did this! Nothing  _ Sebastian  _ could tell me would change that! So, why don’t you just tell me why I’m being kept in this room! And why are you and Sebastian working together? How do you know him? Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the Northern European Fed?” He twists his hands into his hair. “Jenn, why do you know this? Why are you here? Jenn…” He looks up at me with absolute terror in his eyes. “Jenn, are you working with them?”

“Them? Everett, I don’t understand.”

“The people who put me in that godforsaken maze! Jenn, are you working with them? He told me that you were. He said you and Tommy and Giulia. Jenn, are you working with them?” He screams.

“Everett, you need to -”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” Suddenly, he is lunging at me and his hands are around my neck as he throws me to the ground. His fingers tighten as he shrieks, “You’re working with them! You’re one of them! Are you going to torture me like Imna? Huh? You gonna kill me, too?”

I am able to worm my fingers under his hands before he tightens them too far, so he can’t further restrict my air flow. “Everett…” I choke out. “Everett, you gotta… gotta get off me.”

His fingers curl and now his jagged nails are threatening to pierce my skin. “Are you going to throw me out like garbage?” His left hand peels off my throat and slams into my cheek. For someone who hasn’t eaten in weeks, he is still incredibly strong. “Or -” He barks a laugh. “Is Sebastian gonna do it? Is he gonna make me repent for my crimes?” 

“Ev, let me up. We can - AGH!” He forces a skeletal knee into my stomach, forcing all the air from my lungs. 

“We can talk about it?” His fist pounds into my jaw, snapping my head to the side. “We can talk about how fucked up I am? You gonna study me? Is that why you’ve been my ‘friend’? Am I just a fucking experiment?”

“Everett -” Another punch and I feel a cut open up on my cheekbone. I finally maneuver my hands to wrap around the wrist of his hand still around my neck. I return the favor with my nails digging into his skin and try to peel his hand away. “Ev, get off!”

His free hand twists in my hair and jerks my head back, so I am staring directly into his eyes. “And what if I don’t?” He sneers. 

“Then you deal with me.” Everett freezes. Sebastian’s voice comes before I see him stand behind Everett, a syringe pressed - but not inserted - against his neck. I hadn’t heard him enter, but I’m glad he’s here. “I don’t want to sedate you, Everett. I sedate you and you end up in a jail cell.”

“Like this already isn’t a cell,” Everett growls.

Sebastian scoffs and presses the needle a little harder against his neck, “Things can get a lot worse for you, Everett. But, if you get off Jenn, you can stay here. The two of us will leave and give you time to collect yourself. I’d say the second option sounds a lot better.”

“A lot of shit probably sounds better to you,” Everett snaps. I’m surprised that he still has so much fire in him despite the situation he’s stuck in. “If I get off her, will you tell me why I’m being held here?”

I give Sebastian the smallest shake of my head and he sighs. “This isn’t the time for it.”

Everett’s knee drives further into my gut, but pulls up quickly as he launches backwards, smashing the back of his head into Sebastian’s pelvis. The syringe flies from his hand and Sebastian crashes backwards. Everett rears back and rams his heel right into my temple. The last thing I remember before I blackout is Sebastian bolting back towards the door, screaming after Everett. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


END JENNIFER TAILOR TAPE ONE


	23. Chapter 23

**JANUARY 14th - AFTERNOON**

I can’t believe I’m chasing a half-dead, zombie-looking Everett down the hallways. And I can’t believe he’s so much faster than me. He flies towards the stairs, feet hardly touching the floor the whole way. 

After leaving Jenn, I was about two flights down when I got a really unsettling pit in my stomach. The way she talked about how on edge - yet so ready to trust her - he was, put a weird taste in my mouth. I had hoped that I was overreacting, but I’m glad I went back. And the sedative is just something Selene asked me to always have on hand because of how unpredictable Everett’s behavior is going to be for the next several weeks. She doesn’t want to take any chances. And really, I should have used it. I didn’t want to because I don’t want them to throw him into another jail cell, but now he’s running around and threatening dozens more people now. I’ll be told off later, but I thought I would at least give Everett the chance to make the right decision. I wanted him to feel normal and humanized for at least a second.

And now I’m paying for that choice. I’m pounding back down the stairs, hoping desperately for Everett to trip or for someone to run into him. But, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon, so mostly everyone is on their lunch break and not likely to be milling around the nearly abandoned east-wing. 

I say nearly abandoned because Everett was the only resident of the fifth floor of the wing and there are only four labs on the other seven. The east-wing used to focus on the mental capacity of AD-HUs. The suites housed the volunteers of the study and all of the researchers. Once they got all the data they needed, the wing became irrelevant and no one moved in afterwards. So, it seemed like the perfect place to house Everett. We didn’t think he would be trying to make a run for it, though, so it’s the perfect place for Everett to escape or do something drastic.

We’re on the third floor when I finally get my radio out of my front pouch. “Selene!” I scream into it. “Everett is making a run for it! We’re approaching the second floor of the east-wing! I don’t think I can catch up to him.”

“I’m sending a team now. They should meet you before the first floor exit to the staircase. Let me know if he -”

“He’s on the second floor! We might not come out of that exit. Just send some up to the second floor and leave the rest on the first floor.”

“Copy that. Keep him in your sights.”

I keep the radio clenched in my fist as I turn onto the second floor. Everett has managed to get a few more feet in front of me and I feel the muscles in my legs starting to cramp up. I’m not a long distance runner. Which sucks because everything in Everett’s file says that he’s a long distance  _ sprinter. _ I grit my teeth against the pain in my legs and keep pushing. I can’t lose him. Even if I can’t catch him, I need to keep up with him until the guards get here. 

As if they had heard my thoughts, six armed guards come barrelling up the staircase from the other end of the hall. They cut Everett off and force him to turn down a narrow hallway that I know dead-ends. I hold a hand up to stop the guards for a moment and slip down the hallway. I immediately see that Everett has come to the end of the hall and is furiously pounding on all of the doors around him. But, with everyone at lunch and most of the labs not in use, they are all locked. 

“Everett, there’s nowhere to go!” I call down the hall. He is still frantically twisting and pulling at the doors. “Everett, we don’t want to have to hurt you. There’s still time for you to back down.”

“Back down?” He slams a shoulder into a door, but sinks against it when it doesn’t budge. “Sebastian, I pegged you for such a pacifist. I thought you would never even think about hurting someone.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. All of us here are just trying to help you.”

His shoulders shake and I hear a bitter laugh echo down the hall. “Trying to help? Why would you be trying to help me?”

“Everett, we are not the enemy here. Jenn and I are only trying to help you figure all this out.”

“ _ Jenn and I, _ ” he spits mockingly. “And who else?” When I don’t respond right away he twists around with wicked speed, but still needs to lean against the door for support. “Who else are you working with?”

“Everett -”

“Who are you working with?” He screams. His body almost folds in half as it requires all his energy to shout at me. 

“Me.” It’s Selene. I didn’t know she was coming down. Maybe she radioed and I missed it. 

Everett raises his hollow eyes and I see any remaining color drain from his face. “No…” His eyes dart back and forth between me and Selene. “No, no, no…” At first he’s quiet and the words aren’t really more than loud breaths. They get louder, though, and soon he’s shrieking like a banshee. “No! No! No!” He starts to hit the heel of his left palm against his forehead. “NO! NO!”

“Mister Shorey, you need to calm down.” Selene’s voice doesn’t waver. She’s in charge and she needs Everett to know it. “We can get you help, but that can’t happen until you calm down.”

Now he’s crying. Tears roll freely down his cheeks. “You did this to me!”

“You know that isn’t true.” She takes a step forward, so now she is in front of me and I’m staring at her back. “Now, why don’t you take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. Then we can talk.”

He sniffs and twists his fingers into his hair so tight that I think he’s going to rip it out. “It’s all your fault.”

“Mister Shorey -”

“If you’re really my  _ mother _ -” He spits out the word and I flinch. I didn’t think he would remember the conversation we had because he seems to have confused everything else that we talked about. Maybe seeing her brought that all back. “- then where were you? Why didn’t you protect me?” 

“Mister Shorey -”

He pushes off the door, shoulders hunched but head raised. His eyes glare dangerously at Selene. “If you are really my mother, call me by my name.”

“Mist -”

“Call me by my name!” He steps forward with the shout, asserting that he is not backing down. Selene’s silence prompts him to bark again, “Call me by my name!” His whole body is shaking. He’s forcing all his energy into this.

Selene raises her hands to shoulder level, probably to appear non-threatening. “Everett.” Her voice has lost some of its power, but it’s still calm. Collected. She isn’t afraid of him, but she wants him to calm down. She doesn’t want to provoke him further. “We’re going to talk about all of this. We’re going to figure it out. Not out here, though. I see that you’re already cleaned up, so why don’t you try to relax. Take some deep breaths. We are going to get through this. We are going to get you help.”

Everett’s chest heaves heavily with each breath and his legs are shaking so much that I don’t even know how he’s still standing. He stares Selene down for almost a whole minute before finally grinding out, “Where… where were you?”

She slowly lowers her hands and I see the sides of her neck flex like she was swallowing. “Everett…” This time it sounds like she struggles to get his name out. Like the longer they talk the more she begins to realize that this is her son. Or… what remains of him. “I will explain everything to you, but not here.”

“Why?” His voice is low. Not exhausted. But vicious. Dangerous. The only thing that is keeping Selene at an arm’s length. “Are you  _ embarrassed  _ of me? Was it you who gave the order?”

“What order, Everett?”

“To Imna. To… to do those… those… those things to me.” His face twists into something of anguish. He needs answers and I’m afraid of what he’ll do if Selene doesn’t give them to him. 

Thankfully, she shakes her head, braid waving around her lower back. “That wasn’t me. I would never order something like that.”

“You order  _ Nonmunds  _ dead everyday.” 

I flinch at that accusation. I know Everett doesn’t know better, but it’s offensive to hear him talk like that. 

“Everett, you’ve been led astray for a long time now. I’ll give you all the answers you need, but I need your word that you’re not going to attack anyone.” She pauses. “If I don’t have your word, then you’re going back up to that room in handcuffs and we may not see each other again for a long while.”

Silence follows for an uncomfortable amount of time. Everett stares past Selene, but not necessarily at me. It’s like he’s searching for someone else to make the decision for him. Finally, he nods. He reconnects with Selene and he nods. “Yeah… yeah, okay. And it will just be the two of us?” His eyes find me, but he still addresses Selene. 

“There may be a guard right inside the room, but other than that it will only be the two of us. Okay?”

“No guards.”

“Everett, you won’t have to worry about any guards. It will just be me and you in the room.”

“No guards outside.”

Her shoulders rise and fall and her fingers twitch. She’s trying to remain patient with him. “There will be no guards outside of the room.”

That has to be a lie. She would never put herself in danger like that.

“Promise me there will be no guards.”

_ Don’t do it,  _ I think.  _ Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t - _

“I promise there will be no guards.”

_ She did it. _

I can’t believe that weak promise is enough, but he finally nods again. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“Do you want me to come to you or can you come to me?”

He starts to take a step forward, but immediately collapses to all fours. Selene rushes forward and kneels beside him to place a cautious hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch. He actually leans into the touch. I think that he’s probably just leaning into the need for human companionship. He’s so starved for attention and affection and answers that he would probably do just about anything to access all of those things. 

She moves her hand to wrap it around his bicep and brings her other hand to his other arm. She slowly helps him to his feet and keeps a hand on his back as she turns. I have to fight to hold in a gasp of surprise when I notice, for the first time, how similar they look. Despite Everett’s gaunt face, they have the same high, prominent cheekbones and the same strong jaw and pointed chin with the same dimple under their lip. And, though Everett’s eyes are buried under puffy lids, his irises reflect the same steely brown darkness as Selene’s. I had never realized it before, but seeing them together… yeah, it made me a little uncomfortable. 

I clear my throat and address Selene, “What now?”

She glances at Everett and then up to me, “Everett and I are going to go up to my office to have a little chat.” 

“Want me to come with you?”

She hesitates for a second, then nods. “Sure, just in case. But, I want you to hang back once we get to my floor. This is a chat we have to have alone. Oh, and, would you tell the guards to head back to Main? We won’t be needing them and I don’t want them to upset our guest.”

The way she says “guest” sends a weird shiver up my spine and I’m not really sure of the sensation that triggered it. It’s weird. Something doesn’t feel right, but I could be imagining it. “Of course,” I finally say. I turn on my heel and reenter the main hall to see the guards milling about, not really sure what they’re supposed to be doing. “Hey -” All their heads snap to me. “You can all head back to Main. The Dux’s got it from here.”

“You sure?” I scan the decent sized group to find the source of the question. Timothy Uliger. A Felis and also the deputy commander. The cocky, hard headed bitch himself. Of course he had to say something.

I nod, “I am. And if you have any further questions you can take it up with a demotion and another round of training courses titled: ‘Don’t Question The Dux’. Got it?”

He rolls his huge golden eyes and motions for the rest of the squad to follow him. I think I hear him mutter something like “fucking Mers”, but Timothy and his inability to get close to Selene is really not my problem. 

Once the group is back in the stairwell, I dip back down the hallway and wave over my shoulder. “They’re all gone. The hallway is clear for us to head to your office.”

“Thank you.” She looks at Everett, “I’m going to help you to my office. Lean on me as much as you need.”

Caring. That’s the only way I can really describe how she looked at him. Her shoulders are relaxed and she holds his arms with gentleness, her fingers only pressing into his skin as much as they need to for support. And she holds him close. She could have let herself touch him only just enough to keep him upright, but she has him leaning close against her chest. Exactly the way you would expect a mother to cradle her wounded child. She wants him to be close to her. Like she’s trying to make up for lost time. 

Everett accepts her offer and leans even more of his weight onto her shoulders. His legs are awkwardly twisted under him and it takes him a minute to straighten them out. Our chase wore him out completely and his whole body heaves with each breath. All the light has faded from his eyes. So, I have still to decide whether Everett leaning further on Selene was an acceptance of comfort or a requirement to keep himself upright. Either way, he’s able to shuffle down the hallway with her help and we’re on our way to her office. Thankfully, once we get back to Main Facility (shortened to Main), there are lifts that will get us up to the tenth floor faster and easier than any staircase would. And from the amount of energy Everett requires to just walk down the hallway, he’ll need all the help he can get. 

We are unbothered all the way up to her office. A few people approached Selene, but as soon as they saw Everett they backed off. They knew better than to interrupt whatever was happening. 

“Sebastian, would you get the door for me?” 

I go ahead of her and open the black door with a gold placard reading: DUX SELENE AMORETT. Beneath her name in small font reads: 1 st  Officer Under President Dunn. 

I turn the gold handle and push the door in. The lights are off, so I pull a metal cord to the right of the doorway and the overhead lights snap on. 

The office is exactly how it always is. A mess. A whole explosion of papers, files, and books cover every surface except the two cushioned chairs on either side of her ornate wooden desk. There are three wide, floor to ceiling bookcases that are overflowing with materials and each corner is crowded with all sorts of medical manuals. Several jars of pens and half-filled journals are scattered about and there is a massive slab of chalk board propped against one of the bookshelves with white writing smeared all over it. The room looks like how I would imagine Selene’s thoughts look: confusing and unorganized to anyone but her. 

Selene enters the room and helps Everett around the desk to settle him into the plush, maroon upholstered chair behind her desk. The same chair she never lets anyone else sit in. The same chair that she would kill someone over if they looked at it the wrong way. But, she probably just wants to be between him and the door so there is no chance of him even attempting a quick exit. 

“Sebastian,” She looks at me from across the room. “You’re good to go, now. Maybe find Jenn, make sure she’s okay. Check in with Avalyn. I want her to be up to date. And I need your report by the end of tomorrow. Can you do that for me?”

The report about our coup. The report I had absolutely been putting off. The report I literally have not touched or thought about since all of this started. “Uh, yeah. I can have that to you by tomorrow.” A total lie and she knows it. She just wants me off her back. “Radio if you need anything from me.”

She nods, “Thank you for all your help. I’ll let you know everything I do as soon as we’re done here.”

“Sounds good.” I turn from the office and close the door behind me. I’m a little miffed that I won’t be able to sit in on her talk with Everett, but, at the end of the day, I know my presence would only serve to aggravate him and Selene actually needs to make progress with him. And Jenn needs me. Avalyn needs to know what’s going on. And my coup report… Well, that might happen eventually. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


END SEBASTIAN PAOS TAPE TWO


	24. Chapter 24

**JANUARY 14th - NIGHT**

Watching Everett before me… I can’t believe he’s finally here. He’s finally sitting in front of me as my son, not as a stranger or as an Elite trainee. I am finally seeing him through my own eyes and not someone else’s. I want to do more. I want to hold him; wipe the dirt from his face; finally be a mother to him. But, I know that’s not what he needs and he is not ready for it. I don’t want to think about it, but he will probably never be ready for it. I have no way of knowing if he will ever accept me as his mother. And that… that makes me question if any of this is worth it.

I perch myself on the black chair opposite Everett. Before any reconciliation can happen, he is going to need answers. He’s going to hate everything I say and try to reject most of it and I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear what his impression of me is. 

We stare at each other for a long time. I don’t know where to begin with him, so I am secretly hoping he speaks first. He pulls his legs onto the chair, like he’s trying to make himself as small a target as possible. He’s threatened by me. I had to help him to the office, so he probably thinks I’m going to attack him for what he considers ‘weakness’. He lowers his eyes for a second, but when he raises them I can see him search my face. He’s finally ready to ask a question. 

“What do you want from me?” His voice is hoarse.

“Well, Everett, I -” I have no idea how I’ll get him to understand my side of the story. “I want to reconcile your past. And I want you to help me in the future.”

He scoffs. The sound is dry and unnatural. He’s trying to prove he isn’t afraid of me. Prove he isn’t weak. That’s what Imna would have wanted, so that’s probably what he thinks I want. “Why me? Why now?”

I fold my hands in my lap and sigh, “I had to wait until you began remembering what happened with Imna. I couldn’t try to force anything because that might have fractured your memories and never allowed you to get them back.”

He seems to be satisfied with that answer, but his mouth twists downward when he asks, “Why me?” He wants to hear me tell him why. He wants me to confirm what he thinks he already knows.

“Everett, you’re my son. I want you in my life. I want you to be a part of this with me.” He opens his mouth to cut me off, but I keep talking. “You had to know that Giulia was not your mother. You look… well, the two of you look nothing alike.”

“I always assumed I looked more like my father,” he spits. 

“Your father…” I laugh bitterly. “You certainly look like him.”

His eyes suddenly widen like he’s put something together. His mouth hands open for a moment and his hands pull away from his legs. His fingers shake as he brings his hands up to run them through his hair. “Am I your child that ‘died’? Was that story all a lie?” His eyes narrow as quickly as they had widened. “Did you give me away only to tell the world I had died? Did you not want to be burdened by a child?” My hands clench at the accusations. How dare he. “Does your reputation matter more than the life of a child? How could -”

“That baby is dead!” I shout. My hands snap to the arms of the chair and I only hope he can feel the anger radiating off of me. “That baby died because someone thought my husband was an AD - a  _ Nonmund.  _ And they thought it would be best to kill a baby than have a half-breed running around!” I am seething. He has no idea what he’s saying. “And if anyone had known that I - the second in command to their country - had had another child with a non-Concordian… they would have slaughtered you, too.”

Some tension has gone from his body, but there is no sympathy in his eyes. “Who is my father?”

“You know -”

“I know his name!” Teeth snapping like he’s going to throw himself across the desk and rip me to pieces. “Where was he my whole life? Why didn’t you just send me away with him? Why even give me to Giulia?”

“President Dunn -”

“Oh, so you’re blaming him now? Who is next?”

“President Dunn had him executed!”

Everett unfolds himself from the chair and leans forward to match my power, “How convenient that everyone in your life is dead!”

For the first time in my life I’m glad that the desk is so narrow. I launch myself across it and twist his shirt in my fists. Books and papers fly onto the floor, but I don’t care. I pull him up from the chair, so his face is inches from mine and I can feel his hot, panicked breaths on my face. “Don’t you dare. I saved you. I saved you from hell. I saved you from living under the scrutiny of President Dunn and his men. They strung Amos up in the main square in 1-A to ‘teach me a lesson’ about being friendly to outsiders. Want to see?” I reach to a drawer on my left and rip it open. Several black and white photographs are the first thing on a stack of papers and I shove them in Everett’s face. “They let him hang up there for days until his body started to smell! I keep them close to me as a reminder of what I saved you from! Of what I’m trying to save all of Concordia from!” I throw the photographs aside and wrap my fingers around the bottom of his chin to force his eyes up to meet mine. “They didn’t know I was pregnant before I went into hiding under the guise of extensive research, but if they had known, they would have cut my stomach open and tossed your pea-sized existence and my dead body onto the platform beneath him. So, yes! It’s pretty convenient that everyone in my life has died!” I throw him back against the chair and push myself off the desk. I run my hands over my face, but quickly pull them away when I realize that I was crying. I turn my back to him and swipe at my eyes, needing to rid my face of the tears. 

“I’m sorry.”

I snap around, not sure if I heard his whisper correctly. “What?” I’m angry. I’m disgusted. I hate myself for not bringing us together sooner.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers again and I realize there are tears in his eyes. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

I want to forgive him, but he doesn’t deserve a free pass and he probably doesn’t want it. “Don’t throw shit around about what you don’t know or understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I understand that you are. But ‘sorry’ won’t help when you’ve pissed off a real enemy. Assuming things about people and their lives… that’s how you get yourself hurt or killed. Surely someone has told you that before.”

“Stan,” he mutters, eyes dropping to his lap.

I slowly nod. This may get us somewhere. I may finally get into his head. “Your mentor back in 6-B?”

He shrugs, all his fire gone. I outsmarted and proved him wrong. He probably isn’t used to that. “Uh, yeah. But, he… he’s dead now.” His words are numb, like he still hasn’t processed what had happened. With everything happening in such a short amount of time, I’m not surprised that all of this is only now starting to catch up to him. He didn’t have time to think, let alone process a whole lifetime of grief and complex emotions. “Nur killed him and Meredith… though that probably wasn’t the real Nur. They were too nice to Sebastian.” My stomach twists. I’m not ready to talk about Avalyn’s involvement yet. But, thankfully, he moves on. “Sebastian… Why are you working with  _ Nonmunds _ ? That doesn’t make any sense. We’re trying to get rid of them. You shouldn’t be helping the enemy.”

I sink back into my chair, needing all my wits about me to answer this next series of questions. “Everett, this may take time for you to really understand, but all of the prejudice against AD-HUs, Advanced Humans as they are properly called, is unjust and unsupported. Genetically and physically they  _ are _ different. That is undeniable. But, they aren’t threats. Their mutations do not make them any more dangerous than you or me. If they do become criminals, it’s because they were taught. There is no evidence supporting the claims that AD-HUs are any more dangerous than an average human.”

He presses his fingers against his temples and his eyes squeeze shut, “I know… I know… but, Imna -”

“Is wrong. I thought she had the same ideals as me. I thought she wanted to help AD-HUs and prevent the further spread of anti-AD-HU rhetoric.”

“Why would you help them? What have they ever done for you?”

“This isn’t about what they have or have not done for me. AD-HUs are being persecuted for no reason other than blind hatred. I cannot let that continue. I’m disgusted by the fact that I ever participated in harming them.”

“Imna… she seemed… you trained her. You made her like this. Why would she become so evil and terrifying and… and monstrous if you are so pro- _ Nonmund _ ?” 

The breath I take shakes my whole body. I don’t like talking about this. About my greatest failure. “I didn’t know she would end up like this. She always had her own goals and her own way of doing everything, but I never thought she would stray so far from the path I laid for her. I thought I had seen the last of her when she left the Elites. Had I forced her to stay, maybe Concordia would be on a different path right now.” He’s silent. He’s leaning forward in anticipation of hearing more. “Everett, everything she did to you and to countless others was inhumane. She’s operating completely on her own with no one but herself as a guide. She wanted money, fame, and glory that will come with the eradication of AD-HUs. I’ve been trying to stop her movement for years, but she has too much support. From the public and from the president. By gaining such a core group of followers around her, she’s almost guaranteed to never be reached.”

“Why didn’t you come to me before she did that? Why didn’t you try to make any contact? Why didn’t you stop her when she first left the Elites? I don’t understand how you didn’t see this in her.”

“I thought I had trained the anti-AD-HU sentiment out of her. I thought I had done enough. She left to be in a relationship. I thought her being distracted by something serious would be enough to keep her at bay.”

“Why would you let me join the Venats if you knew she was like this?”

“This is going to sound selfish, but I wanted you to have some training. I wanted you to have knowledge of AD-HUs. And, from what Jenn reported to me, your mission was good when you started.”

“And look where that mission got me,” he sneers. He stopped looking at me a long time ago, but I know his anger is still directed at me. 

“I thought I was going to be able to get to you before Imna did. She must have figured out who you were. Otherwise she would never have moved on you so quickly. Sure 6-B was operating way below her standards, but that wasn’t reason enough to go after you like that.”

“So, all of this is your fault. You thought you were saving me from President Dunn, but you only handed me over to someone more dangerous. And if you were so set on saving me, why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t stop you in the middle of the street to tell you I am your mother. You would never have believed me.”

“Anything would have been better than waiting thirty-five years. And, please. Don’t assume I trust you now.”

His statement shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. I don’t know why I thought I was making so much progress with him. I thought that his mellowed attitude was some sign of trust or belief. I also thought his high regard for me would be enough to let him give me some benefit of the doubt.I have to consider that Avalyn was overexaggerating his level of respect and admiration for me, but she has never lied to me before, so his distrust has to be coming from somewhere I don’t know about yet. “Would seeing a genetic statement help you believe me? Is there anything else I can do? I’m sure there’s probably a lot, but I want to do what would help you the most.”

“A genetic statement might help. But, if you were really watching me through Giulia, tell me something special. Tell me something that only she would have been there for.”

“You saved a bird,” My response is immediate.

“Did I?” That’s a strange answer, but I figure he just wants me to continue.

“You were five years old with very little concept of life and death. You were in a motel in the south. It was summer.” I can imagine the memory as clearly as if I was actually there. Giulia had a way of telling a story that made you feel a part of it. “The sun was blazing and Giulia wanted you to come inside because she didn’t want you to get heatstroke. But, there was a small bird on the ground that couldn’t make it back into its nest in the tree outside the window to your room. You found a flat piece of wood and scooped the bird onto it. It probably had a broken wing, but it was definitely the mother of a nest of new babies. You checked on that bird everyday until it was time to leave the motel.” I pause and take a deep breath. “That’s the first story that Giulia told me that confirmed that your light would never be squashed no matter what darkness came your way.”

He smirks and he finally brings his eyes up to mine again. “That’s a nice story that anyone could have told you.”

My brow furrows, “I don’t understand. That was the first story Giulia reported back to me. Are you telling me she lied?”

“Maybe she was afraid of you. Maybe she didn’t trust you as much as you thought she did. Maybe she had a right to feel that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“People only lie when they’re afraid.”

“Everett!”

“Should I be afraid of you?”

“Tell me the story,” I demand. 

“You have it mostly correct. Except -”

“Except?”

“The bird was an Ave. A baby. The brightest silver eyes. The lightest baby I ever held. The baby had tiny feathers behind his ears. To this day that baby is the only one I have ever seen with feathers.” He clears his throat. “I made Giulia find the baby help. He was abandoned. I sobbed and screamed for a whole day before Giulia gave in. That’s the first contact I had with  _ Non  _ \- AD-HU Protective Services.”

“Why wouldn’t she… I don’t…” 

“Maybe she thought you had too much on your plate. Maybe she didn’t want to jeopardize you by telling you that your son helped… helped an - an AD-HU.”

“She should have known that I wouldn’t have cared. It would have actually been nice to know that about you.”

“You’re saying that now, but how was she supposed to know what you were thinking? You’re supposed to be the head of the anti-AD-HU movement. What if she guessed wrong and you sent guards after her? After me? People change.”

“They do. But, Everett -”

“Is Giulia still alive?”

The question catches me off guard, though I should have been expecting it. “She is.”

I’m not sure what flashes in his eyes, but it sends a chill down my spine. “Can I see her?” I’m so distracted by the mix of anger, hope, and excitement in his eyes that he has to ask again. “Can I see her?”

I don’t want him to see her. Not yet, at least. He can’t get past the fact that she didn’t tell me about his true childhood experience, that it may only serve to turn him against me if he sees her. I also can’t risk distancing him anymore if I deny him this visit. “I’ll have to send her a message to make her way here. It may take a couple of days, but I’ll make sure the two of you have a chance to reconnect.”

“Where is she?”

“The Northern American Federation.”

His shoulders drop and he looks almost betrayed. “Why? How? How did she leave Concordia? Why are you still in contact with her if she left Concordia?”

It’s so strange to me that he was so easily manipulated into believing President Dunn’s Concordian Nationalist identity. I know why he was made to be so anti-AD-HU, but I will never really understand where his grossly nationalist outlook came from. That certainly didn’t come from Giulia, so it must have come after he joined the Venats. Or something must have happened with Imna. Something I don’t know and that I need to. 

“Everett,” I readjust my position so both my feet are firmly on the ground and my elbows press on my knees as I lean forward. “Before I tell you why she is there, I need to preface it with something.”

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“Everything I am about to tell you is in complete confidentiality. There is only a small circle of people privy to the information I am about to disclose. If any of what I tell you leaves this room then I will take immediate action against you. The future of Concordia and everyone living here depends on your silence. Am I understood?”

He searches my face for any sign of a lie, but nods a second later. “I understand.”

I sit back and fold my hands in my lap. “Good. Now tell me, Everett, what do you know about the history of our country?”

He shrugs, “Sanding Dunn came into power after the assassination of Calvin Coolidge in 1924.”

“Why was Coolidge assassinated?” It’s not that I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I need to know where Everett’s head is at. I need to know what side of history he has been fed. 

“Because he wanted The United States to be split in half in order to join half to the Northern American Federation and half to the Federation of Central America. Dunn and his organization didn’t think it was fair for The United States to have to suffer when they had no involvement in The Great War. They saw the Federations as stripping countries of their identities and the status they had gained for themselves. It was a punishment for something they had no part in. And the government wasn’t listening to the voices of their people, so Dunn only did what was necessary to ensure the voices were heard. But,” he cocks his head to the side. “You were there. You were one of Dunn’s closest friends. You know what happened better than anyone. You were the one who orchestrated the assassination. Why do you need to tell me your own history?”

I purse my lips, feeling a little sting when he brings up my involvement with Dunn. “Everett, when we led our charge against Coolidge, we were young. The oldest of us was maybe twenty-five. We weren’t really old enough to know what we were doing or what the consequences would be. We never thought we were actually successful, either.”

“But, you were. You fought for what you believed in. Why aren’t you proud of that?”

He sounds exactly like Dunn and, for a moment, I have a brief, terrifying thought that Dunn visited him when he was being held by Imna. “What I’m trying to say is that we were misguided. Assassinating Coolidge condemned everyone living in The United States.”

He recoils at the statement. “You weren’t going to let the rest of the world punish us for no reason.”

“The Federations are not punishment. They united countries, provided access to hundreds of resources, and they ensure that no one country is able to stockpile gross amounts of power. One country has no business being able to amass enough power to start an entire world war on their own. The Federations prevent that. They serve as checks and balances to each other. The leaders are actually held accountable for their actions. Every citizen has access to the same opportunities and they don’t live in fear of their neighbors.”

“But, Concordia -”

“Is a disaster. After Coolidge and his cabinet was assassinated, the borders were locked down. All imports and exports stopped. Travel was banned. We had no way to access information from the outside. There was no established government for close to five years. The military went rogue. Hundreds of thousands of people died. But, Dunn was charming. Dunn had money. Dunn had a top military officer under his thumb. He established himself at the helm with me and two others immediately under him. At first we… we thought we had something, but Dunn got out of hand.”

“What are you trying to say?” His eyes narrow and I’m not sure if he’s aiming his distrust at me or at what I’ve told him of Dunn. 

“What I’m trying to say is that I no longer trust Dunn and I no longer wish to serve under him.”

“So, you’re going to kill him? Then, what? You become president?”

“Sort of. Once he’s dead, I'm going to assume temporary presidency. Then, I’m going to split Concordia, sell half to the Federation of Central America and join the second half to the Northern American Federation.”

He laughs. A full bodied laugh that shakes his body. He laughs and laughs until there are tears in his eyes and he is wheezing. His coughs into a fist and shakes his head, “Sorry, sorry. But, you really think people are going to go along with that?” He chuckles again. “You think just because you call yourself the president they’re going to do whatever you say?”

“They follow Dunn, don’t they?”

Everett shrugs, “Yeah because he’s been in power for decades. At this point they just follow him out of habit. And it’s not like he actually  _ does  _ anything. He stopped issuing decrees years ago. And sure, people like you, but if you try to split Concordia so soon, they will turn on you and you will have another coup on your hands.” 

“What about you, Everett? What would you do if I tried to split and sell Concordia?” 

He shrugs again, “I hate the idea, but I’m not unreasonable. If we got enough out of it, there may be a little wiggle room. Why do you care, anyways? What does my opinion matter to you?”

I sigh and shift uncomfortably. I don’t want to tell him this early, but I figure there’s no way around it now. “Everett, I want you to be my next Dux.”

His jaw drops. He stares at me like a dead fish. I don’t even know if he’s breathing. When he finally moves, it’s to shake his head. “No, no, no. I can’t. I could never.”

“I’m not planning to make my move for several months now - I may even wait a year, but I think you are a perfect candidate. We’ll talk more, you’ll spend some time with Sebastian, and we’ll work towards changing your mind.”

“But, I -”

“I know it’s a lot. But, I am confident in your abilities and I look forward to finally getting to know you. And if you have any questions about anything at all, don’t be afraid to come find me.”

“I -”

“I’m also going to issue you a trauma specialist. They’re going to help you in processing what happened with Imna and anything else you need to work through. Do you have any questions for me now?”

He blankly stares at me for a few seconds before asking, “Um, yeah, uh, what should I call you?”

“Well, I do suppose Dux would be too formal. Just call me Selene. That’s what everyone else calls me and it’s important to me that we feel like equals.”

“Selene.” He nods. “Yeah. I can work with that.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


END SELENE AMORETT TAPE ONE


	25. Chapter 25

**JANUARY 20th**

The past week has been… interesting and confusing and terrible to say the very least. Selene has been sending me to therapy at least once a day, sometimes more, and I honestly don’t know if it’s actually helping. I want to scream every time I close my eyes because it never stops. I never stop reliving them. I never stop seeing them. There’s always some phantom pain and Imna’s voice never leaves the back of my mind. The therapist just has me talk about my memories, but he doesn’t tell me how to cope. He doesn’t tell me how to make the voices stop. He’s just an empty wall with a fake smile and illegible notes. He doesn’t know me and he doesn’t care. Selene might say that I’m ‘not helping’ by being unresponsive during the sessions, but why would I tell my entire life to a complete stranger? I don’t even trust myself to remember or know all this. 

Selene also has me set up on some fitness program. It’s stupid. It’s mostly to help me get back my strength and make sure I’m in control of my own body. Training is the only time my mind is clear, but it can’t last all day. I have a trainer working with me on my upper body strength and Sebastian’s working with me on my stamina and lower body power. 

How do I feel about working with Sebastian? What a fucking question that is. Honestly, it’s not as terrible as I thought it was going to be. I don’t exactly trust him, but that’s not because he’s an AD-HU. It’s mostly because he was working with Selene and I’m not close to trusting her yet. So, until I have the capacity to trust her, I won’t be able to look at any of her  _ associates _ with a clear head. 

But seeing Sebastian’s tail so up close… yeah, it’s amazing. We’ve been spending a lot of time doing aquatic exercises, so I’ve actually been able to get a good look at it. The scales are like a snake skin after it’s been shed: opaque, thin, mostly colorless. There is a dip in the front center of his tail where his legs come together, making it obvious that there are human legs beneath the scales. And the fin, or I should say fins, at the base of the tail are fucking gorgeous. There’s about six fins of different lengths - but all paper thin - at the end of his tail. And they’re clear enough that you can see hundreds of blood vessels branching through them. It’s powerful and impressive and… and just about one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. 

Besides being in awe of his tail, the thing that surprises me the most about working with him, is the fact that he still trusts me. That he still wants to work with me. That he can even stand to be in the same building as me. I don’t know what I would do in his situation, but I don’t think I would be friendly to the person who beat and harassed me. 

Selene? Yeah, I’ve been feeling every sort of way about Selene. And about her… proposal. Truthfully, I’m not completely against it, but I’m not a fan of it either. I don’t think Concordia is ready for it. Since we originally talked, Selene has gotten me to see lots of positives about the Federations, but there are too many people in Concordia who won’t be swayed. All they’ll see is Selene trying to tear the country apart and that is going to scare them. They’ll fight and kick and scream and endanger the  _ entire _ Federation system. The Federations are built on cooperation and the cohabitation between Humans and AD-HUs. And in Concordia, well I don’t really need to explain that neither of those things exist here. People aren’t educated and they aren’t  _ willing _ to be educated. They believe in what their parents and their president told them and they think that anything else is a lie. So, it’s not that I’m against Selene… but I am against the idea of a civil war in Concordia spilling out of the country and destroying the fragile peace the rest of the world has been able to create. 

And there are so many good people who would be hurt by this. Jenn and I have started to reconnect and she has really been helping me realize how many people supported AD-HUs in our own community. It’s not that they aren’t present, it’s that they’re too afraid to speak out. Because in the eyes of someone who is anti-AD-HU, supporting them is just as dangerous. 

I barely sleep at night because I lay awake thinking about all the people I hurt. All the lives I took. It wasn’t my job. Fuck, it wasn’t my right. I can’t believe I ever thought I had that power over someone. If someone is a dangerous criminal then they deserve to suffer the consequences of their actions, but death is often too severe a punishment. Death is how cowards deal with a problem. I was afraid… I didn’t have anything, so I thought that taking lives would give me power on my own. I’m not trying to justify what I did, I’m only trying to sort out for myself how I could have possibly thought I was right.I knew what I was doing. I was in control every time I took a life. I knew it was me and my name that sent AD-HUs into hiding. They never did anything to me and I tore their communities and their families apart. All those innocent AD-HUs… I want to vomit every time I think about them. I can never scrub my hands hard enough because their blood will always be on me. I’m the monster, not them. I’m the killer and everyday I feel less and less like I should be alive. I don’t deserve to be the next Dux. 

Sympathy from Selene, Jenn, Sebastian, and all the other people trying to help me? I can’t imagine something I deserve less. They keep telling me that it isn’t my fault because Imna brainwashed me. But, from what I understand, there has to be some part of you that believes or wants it in order for you to be brainwashed. Those feelings. That belief. It didn’t come out of thin air. 

This is… this is actually the first time I’ve talked to anyone about this. I didn’t talk to my therapist about it because he would only tell me that it wasn’t my fault and I shouldn’t blame myself and the other fill-in-the-blank bullshit. 

Every morning I wake up after a shitty night’s sleep and go to the bathroom where I stare at myself for what feels like hours. I stare at this person in the mirror that I don’t recognize. I see someone who looks like he just came back from The Great War. The haunted, scared eyes that only share terror with the world as they stare at you from the black and white photographs in history books. But, at least they fought for something that mattered. Their trauma, as real and valid as it is, came from the fight to bring peace and hope.  _ My _ trauma… it’s just… it came from this ugly place and now there is nothing left in me but guilt. Guilt over still being alive. Guilt over being treated like a normal human being. Guilt over the fact that I want to kill myself everytime I open my eyes. 

That would be too easy. When my life ends… it shouldn’t be quick. 

If Selene’s plan works and I become Dux… they’ll probably hail me as a hero. 

I don’t want to be a hero. 

I’m not a hero. 

That’s not how my story ends. 

**[Mister Shorey are you able to continue?]**

I want to die. I want it to end, but I’m so scared. 

**[Mister Shorey, we can stop and continue later if you need a minute.]**

God, I’m so scared.

**[Mister Shorey?]**

I’m sorry. I need to end the session here. I can’t talk about this anymore. 

  
  
  
  



	26. Chapter 26

**JANUARY 21st - AFTERNOON**

“Everett, where is your head at? We’ve only just started, you can’t be this tired yet.” 

Sebastian’s concern barely reaches me. I’ve been thinking about Kr - uh, Kruczek all morning. I’ve actually been thinking about her for the past several days. Jenn tried to convince me that killing Kruczek was self defense, but I’m not sure if it was or not. I can hardly remember actually killing her because of how drugged I was, but all I know was that killing her led me into The Labyrinth, so I had to have done something bad. Everytime I try to ask Selene about it she avoids answering until I either leave or redirect the conversation. I can’t get past it and not having answers really scares me. It makes my heart race and my hands get clammy. Before this week I can’t remember having a panic attack before. Feeling so distressed, out of control, and trapped is something I have never felt before. I never thought my life would take this turn. I never thought I would kill a human. I never thought that - if I did kill a human - it would be in cold blood. Or what I’m assuming was cold blood.

“Everett!”

I snap my head over to Sebastian who has just jumped into the pool beside me. “What?”

“One lap and you’re exhausted? What’s going on?” 

I hadn’t realized that my arms are digging into the pool’s ledge to keep me above water and my breathing is harsh. “Um…” I don’t want to talk about it. As much as I need to get all these thoughts out of my head, I don’t want to make them real.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.” That’s not exactly a lie and I hope it’ll be enough to get him off my case.

He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow, “Yeah? That’s what you told me yesterday. And the day before. And every other day before that. But, you don’t look any worse than before. So, either you’re sick or there’s something going on upstairs. Now, you can either tell me or I can go get Selene. And I’m sure she won’t be particularly happy that you aren’t making the progress she’s expecting.”

“I’m just sick. Don’t worry about it,” I mutter, really hoping that he would believe me and move on. 

Instead, he just laughs. Like, full head thrown back, full bodied laugh. He shakes his head and brings his eyes up to meet mine, “Do you really think I’m dumb?”

I shrug. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”

“Everett, it’s my job to make sure that you’re in the best physical condition you can be. You can’t get there if you’re constantly battling what’s in your head. That isn’t healthy.” He sighs. “You know you can trust me. This doesn’t have to go all the way to Selene or to a therapist. Sometimes you need to talk without anyone analyzing you.”

I drop my eyes and lick my lips. I need a second to weigh the pros and cons of telling him. If I tell him, he probably won’t go to Selene. He’s undeniably loyal to Selene, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would betray personal confidence. I can only hope I’m assuming correctly. I don’t know what I would do if he went to Selene behind my back. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Kruczek. And before you say anything about it being self defense or preservation or whatever the fuck you think happened, I think there’s more to that story that I don’t know or can’t remember, so if you know anything… that’s what I need to hear. Not some hand-holding, feeling protecting nonsense.”

“Everett, what you did to Kruczek. That was brutal.” He doesn’t even hesitate before answering. I appreciate that he’s willing to be honest with me. “I think about it sometimes and get sick to my stomach. But, she… she brutalized you man. There’s no denying that. All the shit during the interrogation,” he shakes his head. “Selene never approved that. Kruczek did that on her own. She was out of control. So, yeah. Killing her might have been self defense. You needed to escape a situation that was destroying you. And, given you were remembering everything with Imna, that only amplified what Kruczek was doing to you. The brutality side of it, though. That’s a whole other story. You ripped her to pieces, man. That’s not something you’re gonna be able to process unless you let yourself take the time.”

My breathing has evened out, but my chest and arms are still shaking. Something about how direct Sebastian is finally lets me organize my thoughts. He’s admitting to me that what I did was terrifying and fucked up and that’s… it’s not comforting, but it makes it real. “What would you do, then? How do I deal with this?”

He brushes a few strands of hair off his shoulders and sighs, “I can’t really give you a sure answer because I’ve never been where you are. But, you can’t get through all of this while you’re training. And you certainly can’t get through it all when Selene is throwing all her world saving plans at you. So, unless you want to bottle up all your trauma and wait for it to explode, I think you need to talk to Selene. She needs to give you a couple days - a week at least - on your own. No training. No debriefings. No hounding you for your opinion. You need to have some freedom to do whatever you want. Talk to whoever, don’t talk to whoever, find your own time and your own space and your own ways to cope.”

“Are you sure that would help?”

“I think it’s a good place to start.”

“Do you think she would let me leave this facility?”

“She might. There are a few other controlled locations she might be able to send you to, but I don’t think she’s ready to have you on your own yet.”

Leaving this compound would be amazing. There’s such a heavy air about this place and it’s so frustrating to always have Selene breathing down my neck. I don’t know where my head is at yet regarding her plan, so I’m spinning and spinning and spinning and I don’t know how to stop any of this. If I could just have access to… access to the outside, that might be all I need. I’ve never been good at being cooped up. I get so stuck inside my head and I start to lose all sense of myself. It’s not a mental state I like to be in. 

But - as much as I need to be alone and in control of my fate - I’m not great at being alone. “Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“If I asked to leave and Selene said yes…” I trail off, feeling stupid and embarrassed for even thinking about this question. 

“Yeah?”

“Would you maybe be able to come with me?” I hate that I asked him that. I want to take the question back as soon as I’ve said it. I’m not a child. I don’t need him to watch over me. I don’t need anyone in order to feel safe.  _ What is wrong with me? _

Confusion flashes onto his face for a second and he asks, “Why me? Of all the people who could go with you.”

I’m glad that his response is not an immediate rejection. That would have made me feel even more idiotic. “You don’t dance around anything. You’re not afraid to tell me as it is and… and I trust you.” I shouldn’t have answered him. I should have told him to forget it.

“Why do you trust me more than Jenn or anyone else?”

I shrug. “I probably sound childish, but it’s because _ you _ trust  _ me _ . And you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m about to shatter at any moment. You’re real with me, but you aren’t mean about it. I respect that.”

Sebastian considers this for a moment and then a grin splits his face, “You’re really one of the most confusing people I’ve ever met, you know that?” He chuckles softly. “But, to answer your question, yes. I would go with you.”

“Thanks.” It had to be Sebastian over Jenn because she only looks at me with sad eyes. And she’s seen me go through something like this before, so I don’t feel comfortable putting her through it again.

“You want to talk to Selene about this now or do you want to get a couple more laps in?”

“Um, I think I should go talk to her now before what courage I have drains out of me. I’m also not sure if I could focus enough to keep myself from drowning.”

He laughs again and that sounds makes me smile a little. “That’s probably a good idea. Besides, we have all the time in the world to swim laps.”

Now I actually laugh, “You may have all that time, but once I’m back up to normal strength, I never want to swim another lap again. I don’t even know if I’ll want to look at the water again.”

“But the water is where all the best people are. How could you possibly avoid it?”

“Guess I’ll just have to figure out how I’ll live without you in my life.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Good luck with that.” He turns and pulls himself out of the pool. As soon as his tail has disappeared and his feet are flat on the tile floor, he wraps a nearby towel around his waist and turns back to me. “Need a hand?”

I shake my head and plant my hands on the ledge to heft myself up. My swim shorts rain water onto the tile as I drape my towel around my shoulders. “What? Didn’t think I could handle myself?”

“Oh, believe me, I’ll tell you when I don’t think you can.”

I ruffle a hand through my hair to try and shake some water out, but only end up with my fingers knotted in the strands. “Is that so?”

He takes a small step closer to me and I turn to find his own face inches from mine. His eyes are still violet and I find myself getting absolutely lost in them. So lost that I almost miss him saying, “Oh, that’s a promise.” Wrinkles crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiles and I feel his hand on my shoulder. “Come on. Before all that courage drains out of you.”

I blink away my fixation on his eyes and nod with a laugh, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“Let’s get dressed and I’ll meet you at the bottom of the stairs in ten minutes. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” I turn away from him and head towards the small changing area I had changed earlier. My clothes are still on the low ledge in the stall where I put them. I drop and kick off my swim shorts and then take the towel off my shoulders to dry the rest of my body. Once I’m dry enough I toss the towel aside and dress myself in: black socks, dark brown pants, a black undershirt, and a navy blue shirt. I tuck in the shirt and fasten my pants before snapping black suspenders over my shoulders. I stuff my feet into my black shoes and straighten with a loud huff. I adjust my clothes to fit as comfortably as possible without looking in the floor to ceiling mirror and slip out of the room. 

I don’t know if what I’m doing is right and I can’t stop second guessing myself. Before all of this, when all I was dealing with was Stan’s lethargic work pace, I knew exactly what I was doing. Working at the pub was a breeze and I had my Venat work down to an exact art. A dark, gruesome art that I shouldn’t be proud of in the slightest, but I knew how to do it. I didn’t question anything. Now, I don’t even know if I’m walking correctly. I’m always doing and saying something wrong. People stare at me. Point at me. Hide laughs from me. I can’t retaliate against it because I don’t know who I am, so how dare I defend myself. 

I have to do this, though. I won’t have any answers if I don’t pursue them. I cry myself to sleep almost every night because I don’t know who I am anymore. Rolling over and letting all of this happen is only going to make it worse. I don’t need to be anyone for anybody right now, so I need to take this opportunity.

I make the quick walk through the pool area to the stairs. Sebastian is already waiting for me when I get there. He’s back in his slimmer fit black pants and dark purple sweater from earlier, and his hair is twisted in a tight braid.

“You ready?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

We start up the stairs and he says, “I think this is a good thing that you’re doing. I know Selene wants to get her project moving as soon as possible, but she’s going to need you at your best if that is going to happen.”

“I need to be away from all of this for a little. I need space. I need to be away from her. All the new information… it’s more than I can handle right now.”

“Of course.”

“You don’t think I’m asking for too much?”

He shakes his head, “No, not at all.”

“I don’t want her to think I’m trying to control her or the situation.”

“Everett, you’ve been through hell and back. If she expects you to be okay and ready to go in a week, then she’s dreaming. You have to take care of yourself before things get messy again. And you wouldn’t be controlling her. You would be asking her for a favor. You don’t need to doubt yourself.”

I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so bad. Everything he says sounds so sure and so true, but there’s a small part of me that is still angry and scared and doubtful. For now, though, I figure that the best course of action is just to try and ignore it for as long as possible. “I’ve never been good at asking for things. Stan… he gave me the direction I needed and I never went beyond what I knew I was capable of. And Giulia always had so much on her plate that I never asked for anything.”

“You’re in a place now where you can feel comfortable asking for whatever you need.”

“I know.”

“And it’ll take time for you to get used to that, but start here.”

I nod, but don’t respond. I’m too busy running through what I’m going to say to Selene. I don’t want her to think I’m being pushy or arrogant. 

We make it up to her office and my heart is racing. My hands are shaking when I knock on her door and I don’t know if it’s nervous sweat or residual water dripping down my back, but it only makes me more uncomfortable. I hear footsteps make their way towards the door and I feel every muscle in my body clench when the door opens. 

Selene’s eyebrows raise when she sees the two of us, “Everett. Sebastian. I wasn’t expecting either of you until later tonight. What can I do for you?”

“Would we, um, be able to come in?” I ask, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

She nods, her lips pulling down into a frown. “Of course. Is something wrong?” She opens the door further and gestures us into the room. 

I wait until she closes the door to respond. “Not really wrong, but…” My throat closes and for a second I can’t get any words out.

“It’s okay, Everett. You can ask,” Sebastian says, placing a gentle hand on the small of my back.

For a split second I hate that he spoke to me like I’m small and insignificant, but I know he’s on my side and - if anything in this world is certain - I know I need allies. “I was hoping you might let me leave this facility for a little while. I feel trapped here and can’t work through all of this when I’m constantly being watched. I can’t look at you anymore and pretend to be interested in your plan because I get a migraine the second you ask my opinion. I can’t get Imna out of my head because every concrete wall is identical to the ones where she held me. I know you don’t mean it, but I can’t help but feel like I’m being manipulated into supporting your cause because I am literally never away from it. I just… I need space and air and… and I’m sorry if I seem like I’m asking for too much. I need to be able to make decisions on my own with a clear head.”

Selene is silent for a long time. I feel her eyes searching my face and boring into me. She doesn’t seem angry or upset, rather she is searching for sincerity. I thought I was being too aggressive, but nothing I said seems to have phased her. “How much time do you need?” She finally asks. 

“Probably a week, at least. If that’s too long then -”

“No, Everett. That’s probably not long enough. Sebastian most likely gave you the same speech that I’m about to give, but it’s important to me that you’re able to function to the best of your ability. And if that means that you need to spend some time away from all of this, I understand. Overwhelming you will only make matters worse.” The seriousness in her eyes is comforting. I don’t doubt that she wants me to get better. “I have several facilities that may benefit you. There’s limited supervision, but there are people and resources available should you need them. And,” she glances at Sebastian and then back to me. “I’m assuming that you’re going to request Sebastian goes with you. Yes?”

I try to fight the stunned look on my face, but I can’t. “Yes. If you think that would be okay.”

“I think that would be just fine. Just don’t distract him too much. He still has reports for me.”

Sebastian snorts. “You’ll have the reports soon enough. I only want to make sure that they’re perfect. God knows how much I hate doing multiple drafts.”

Selene chuckles, “Oh, I know.” She refocuses her attention and continues. “I can have you set-up and ready to go by tomorrow. Is that too soon or would you rather wait an extra day or so?”

I shake my head, “No, that’s perfect. Where will we be going?”

“This facility is in the most northern part of 1-A, almost out of Concordian bounds. It’s a small research facility that focuses on small-scale works, so it won’t be too hectic there. You will have access to everything you could possibly need, so do not be afraid to ask if you need something. Does that sound like what you’re looking for?”

“That sounds amazing, actually. Thank you. Thank you so much.” I almost want to cry in relief. I hadn’t expected her to be so willing to accommodate. 

“Everett, I need you to understand that you can trust me. I’m on your side. Always have been, always will be. Everything I have planned can wait a little longer for you.”

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it won’t go away. Stan ‘believed’ in me, but he never really cared for me. Selene, though, cares about me and I think she might even love me. I mean, if she’s willing to put her life’s work on hold so I can recover, that has to mean something. Right? It either means that she loves me or that I’m a complete fool. 

“Is there anything else you need?” She asks.

I clean my throat and the lump finally disappears. “No, uh, that’s it. Thank you, again.”

“Anything for you, my son.” 

My son.  _ Mijo _ . Her words blend with the memories of Giulia calling to me and I feel tears pooling in my eyes. There’s something so soft and gentle and… affectionate about the words. A kind of affection I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time. 

Before I even register her movement, I feel her arms wrapping around me and she is bringing my head down to her shoulder. Soon I am bringing my arms up to wrap around her torso and I cry. I cry in a way I haven’t since the time Jenn first visited me. This time, though, I’m not crying out of fear or exhaustion. I’m crying for the life I could have had. A life where I wasn’t always running and hiding and fearing what was around the corner. A life where I was always loved. A life that was whole and good. A life that didn’t tear me apart.

“Everett,” She whispers softly in my ear. “The world has been so cruel to you, but you don’t need to worry anymore. You never need to be afraid again.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	27. Chapter 27

**JANUARY 22nd - AFTERNOON**

In the end, I only have one satchel packed for the trip and it’s barely full. I have two extra sets of clothes, a heavier winter jacket, a couple sanitary items, and my toothbrush and paste, but nothing else. As depressing as that sounds, I really don’t want a lot of reminders of the place I’m trying to escape from. And it isn’t like I have many personal effects to bring with me. I didn’t exactly have time to pack all my things from 6-B. Thankfully, I see that Sebastian is bringing along the same amount I am, so I don’t feel like I’m missing too much. The only additional item Sebastian has that I don’t is a small satchel filled with several journals and an assortment of pens. Selene’s reports wait for no one. And really, I only need the essentials. Anything else would be distractions. 

We meet on the stone walkway outside of the towering compound’s main doors to wait for the car that was going to take us to the new facility. Sebastian braids his hair over his shoulder while we wait and I fiddle with the buckle on the strap across my chest. I’m not nervous, I’m just not a patient waiter. 

“Are you ready for whatever you’re going to find out there?” He asks as he knots a piece of cord around the end of his braid and tosses his hair over his shoulder. 

I shrug and run a hand through my own hair, which had been cut down to a manageable length. The sides are a bit shorter, but the top is still long enough that several curls hang just above my eyes. “I’m not really sure. I don’t exactly know what I’m going to find, so I have to hope that I'm prepared enough.”

He nods, “And I’ll be there with you the entire time, so don’t be afraid to come to me, okay?”

“Yeah, I guess that is why you’re coming.”

He chuckles and points to the sleek, black car pulling up the drive. “This must be for us.”

The car slows to a stop in front of us. The driver pops the trunk open and Sebastian extends a hand to take my satchel which I have to him. He places all the luggage in the trunk and closes the top with a thud. I get in on one side of the car and Sebastian enters through the other. Once we are settled, the driver asks, “Northern Cascade Facility?”

Sebastian nods, “That’s correct, thank you.”

The driver nods, “My pleasure.”

  
  
  


We approach the new facility about three hours later in the middle of a terrible blizzard. The snow is so thick I can barely make out the squat building ahead of us. All I can really see is lots of bright lights shining through glass windows. We pull up to the main doors and hustle out of the car and around to the trunk to gather our things. Sebastian thanks the driver one last time before he drives off, leaving us alone at the doors. We both almost race to open them, our fingers already almost about to fall off from the cold. Upon our entrance we are met by a middle aged person in a clean-pressed lab coat. 

“Welcome. You must be Sebastian and Everett. Yes, Selene did tell us that you would be arriving about now.” They step forward and extend a hand to me. “My name is Dr. Quin Francis. However, Quin is fine.”

I shake Quin’s hand, “Everett.” 

Quin pulls their hand away and moves to Sebastian who accepts the greeting. “Sebastian.”

“I am glad to be acquainted with you both. Now, if you would follow me, my team has prepared where you will be staying. You don’t need to worry about any of them bothering you. They are all incredibly busy. Should you need anything, however, they are always looking for distractions.” 

Quin leads us down a long hallway and down a flight of stairs. While we are on the stairs is the first time I notice Quin’s inverted knees, the clear sign of Felis genetics. Then, I notice the pointed tips of their ears just poking out from their hair. At first I’m surprised I didn’t realize the physical traits sooner, but I come to the conclusion that I didn’t notice because I didn’t care. I wasn’t examining every inch of Quin in an attempt to find some reason to fault them. Coming to terms with that feels ground breaking. To feel like I’m not being around people just to fault and slaughter them… that makes me feel a little more human. 

“Few of our researchers live on site, so you won’t have to concern yourself with neighbors in the next room. You will have the utmost privacy, I assure you.” Quin says this as we push through a set of glass doors and step into a living room-esque space. A brick fireplace surrounded by couches and comfy chairs is against one wall. A short table with two long couches on either long end is in the center of the room. Nearest to us is two armchairs looking out the floor length glass windows that span the whole room. It’s interesting that they wouldn’t try and invest in more privacy measures, but it isn’t my place to question the design choice.

Quin leads us past all this and down a hallway a few feet to the left of the fireplace. We pass several doors, but don’t stop until we reach the end of the hallway. There’s a door on either side of us, so I assume that I will take one and Sebastian will take the other. My assumption was correct when Quin points me to the room on our left and Sebastian to the one on the right. They also let Sebastian know that there is another staircase on the other side of the fireplace that will take him directly to a recreational pool. 

“Again, please do not hesitate to reach out to anyone if you need assistance of any kind. Meals are served in the dining hall at promptly eight a.m., two p.m., and eight p.m. The dining hall is the room immediately to your left when you come in through the front doors. If you need meals delivered to your rooms for any reason, let someone know and that can absolutely be arranged. If anyone causes issues for either of you, say something immediately. There are not to be any disruptions to the normal routine in this facility. Can I answer any questions for you now?”

Sebastian shakes his head and I quickly follow suit, “We’re okay for now. But, thank you.”

“Of course. And it is only seven o'clock, so you haven’t missed dinner.” They nod to both of us. “If I don’t see you at dinner, have a good first night.” With that, Quin turns away and leaves us alone.

“Do you think you’re going to be up for dinner?” Sebastian asks after a moment of silence.

I shake my head, “Not really. I ate before we left and I’m not sure I can handle anything else right now.” Grabbing something before we left is a lie, but the part about my stomach is true. It’s been upset all day and I’m in no mood to throw anything up.

“Okay, just let me know. We can go down together if you decide to.”

“Sounds good.” 

I turn to my door and twist the handle. A soft click opens the door and I enter cautiously. The room immediately welcomes me. The lights are pre-set to a soft amber glow and the bed sitting across the room looks as if it is made of clouds. I toss my bag aside and cross the room to throw myself on the bed. Immediately, I am enveloped in a comfort that feels otherworldly. Now, no matter how hungry I might get, I don’t think I’m going to leave this bed. 

I slide my shoes off and crawl further onto the bed. Exhaustion claws at the back of my eyelids, but it’s not a full-body-terror induced exhaustion. This is a comfortable, safe exhaustion. This place hasn’t threatened me yet. I’m in a new space with new people who - hopefully - don’t know my trauma inside and out. So, maybe they won’t treat me like a child. 

I don’t have the energy to think about that, though, because my eyes are already closed and sleep is already upon me. 

  
  
  
  


__ _ “You think you can escape us. You think you can run, you think you can hide, but the world is so much smaller and so much more dangerous than you could ever imagine.” _

_ My feet stumble over invisible terrain and my arms flail wildly, as I try to stay upright. I can’t see anything ahead of me and all I feel is tightness. Claustrophobia I didn’t think I had. Something is squeezing my head and twisting my insides. A hand is scratching down my back and something is nipping at my heels. I run through a tunnel of outstretched hands; all touching, poking, prodding, and groping me. There is something wet on my face. It’s too thick to be tears, but it can’t possibly be blood. I touch my fingertips to my cheeks and they come back smeared with blood. My hands begin to shake and it feels like they’re going to fall off when blood begins to trickle out of my ears. But, there’s no pain. Nothing hurts. I’m just terrified. My heart is beating so fast and so hard that I think my ribs are going to break.  _

_ The space around me twists and contorts and I try to put my arms up to protect my head, but I can’t move. Something is holding me down and it’s squeezing my lungs. I can’t breathe. My eyes search for anything. Any opening. Any sign of hope.  _

_ Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.  _

_ The hold on my vocal cords vanishes for one second. Enough time for me to scream a strangled “Help me!” before an acrid sludge begins churning out of my mouth.  _

_ The sludge chokes me. My vision blurs. I’m dying.  _

_ I can’t get in any air.  _

_ The space tightens around me again.  _

_ My hands go out of focus.  _

_ Tighter.  _

_ My eyes close. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	28. Chapter 28

**JANUARY 23rd - EARLY MORNING**

My eyes fly open and I immediately register the hard floor beneath me. I am consumed with panic when I feel something tightly coiled around my body. My arms are twisted awkwardly underneath me and I can’t get my legs free. I realize it’s the comforter from the bed that I’m so tangled in and a minute of flailing frees me from the blanket. I throw it aside and sit up. I am still in my clothes from the day before, so now they’re drenched in sweat and uncomfortably hot. I check the clock beside my bed and see that it is two forty-seven in the morning. I’m surprised that my nightmares let me sleep that long. 

I groan and push myself up off the floor. I need to change my clothes and get out of this room. I strip off my sweater, button down, and pants, so I am left in socks, a white undershirt, and underwear. I take my socks off and just stand for a minute. I take a deep breath and try to remind myself that what I had just witnessed was only a nightmare. None of it was real and they can’t get to me. I am safe here. Probably more safe than when I was at Selene’s Main Facility. There shouldn’t be any reason for people - specifically Imna - to know that I’ve been moved here, so that should comfort me. I don’t know why it doesn’t. 

I look at my bag of clothes on the floor and consider putting something else on, but a sudden heat flash sends sweat trickling down my spine and I decide what I’m wearing is enough. I quietly step out of my room and make my way to one of the armchairs looking out the window. A soft snow falling and the world seems so peaceful. 

Before all of this happened, I would have been uncomfortable going anywhere only partially clothed. Stan always made me feel like I wasn’t skinny or fit enough. It was always ‘Are you working out enough’ or ‘Are you sure your fitness plan is rigorous enough?’ He would hate the way I look now. Unhealthily thin. Undefined muscle. Of course he’s dead, but sometimes I still find myself searching for his approval - or disapproval. Everytime I find myself looking for a memory of Stan’s opinion, I find that it is almost immediately overwritten with Sebastian’s positive reinforcement. He never makes me feel like I’m not good enough. He knows that I’m capable of doing better, but he never makes me feel bad for it. It’s always a suggestion as to what I could try differently. Always a take-it or leave-it type thing. Nothing is ever forced on me and I appreciate that more than he could ever know. 

I actually appreciate a lot of things about Sebastian. Once I was able to convince myself that he’s a friend and that AD-HUs aren’t inherently evil, I found myself seeking his company. Jenn only sees my trauma and she doesn’t talk to me like a friend anymore. She talks to me like a patient and like I can’t handle what she’s telling me. And Selene… I still don’t know where we stand. She’s trying to force all of this onto me and, as nice as it was for her to let me step away from Main Facility, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to accept her offer or… or ever work with her. I’m trying to come to terms with her being my mother, but I fail to see a situation in the near future where I trust her. If she could keep this secret for so long, I don’t even want to consider what else I’m being kept in the dark about. I don’t think I’ll really know where I stand until I’m able to have a conversation with Giulia. And that may take forever. Selene may have no intention of letting me see her. I know for a fact I will never trust Selene if I don’t see Giulia. That’s a nonnegotiable. I see Giulia or I don’t work for - or even around - Selene. 

But Sebastian? He’s all hope and positivity. He isn’t afraid to talk to, joke or have serious conversations with me. I never have to fake anything with him. He doesn’t expect me to wallow in fear and trauma every single day, so if I’m having a better than average day he doesn’t question why. He doesn’t question whether what I went through was real or not. 

I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. All of this is so surreal. None of it makes a lot of sense to me. This past month… I can’t believe it’s only been a month. It only took a month for my closest friends to be killed, for me to gain a new mother, for my ideals to change, for my world to turn completely upside down. Actually, ‘upside down’ might be the wrong words. Sure it’s different, but it’s not - it’s not bad. At least… I don’t think it is. My life feels more stable. I don’t feel as fractured anymore. A tiny piece of my brain is still trying to keep me against AD-HUs and Selene’s plan to unite Concordia with the Federations, but it’s not winning. I’m unsure about my stance regarding Selene’s plan, but at least I  _ know _ I’m unsure. I know that I don’t have enough information and I know that I haven’t had enough time to fully understand her proposal and I know that there’s too much else for me to sort through before I even consider making up my mind. 

The thing that I’m stuck on now - well, no, the thing that I’ve been stuck on for a while now - is Kruczek. Killing her… I don’t remember anything leading up to it. I remember first being transferred into the ‘maximum security facility’ and my first night there with Orysh in the hospital, but the next thing I remember is looking back at Kruczek’s dead body before I ended up in the Labyrinth. Sebastian told me that she was pushing me too far and that she was way out of line, but I don’t know what she could have done that would have prompted me to attack her like that. That’s just not me, at least I don’t think it is. Even when it came to killing AD-HU’s, that required a conscious effort. I knew what I was doing every time. That wasn’t pure, animalistic rage. What I did to Kruczek was savage and that scares me. The moments before I killed her is the only stand-out hole in my memory, and I don’t know if I want those pieces back. My time with Imna… I can pretty much fill in the blanks for myself. Kruczek, though. I’m afraid of that. I’m afraid to find that there’s no redeemable part of me. That I’m a killer at my core. I’m afraid that I’m going to find enjoyment as I killed her. I’m afraid that everything Imna did to me only served to amplify the murderous instinct already inside of me. I’m afraid that killing AD-HUs was only an excuse because I wasn’t bold enough to kill humans. I continue to be told that, before the Venats, I only had good in me and that I’m on my way to becoming that person again. But every time I hear that, I see Kruczek. I see her blood on my hands. I taste her blood on my lips. I remember that I didn’t want to throw up at the sight of her body. I want to believe them when they tell me that I have good inside me, but the stench of death is too strong, too fresh, too real. I have plenty of innocent blood on my hands, but Kruczek’s death came from me. It didn’t come from Imnas manipulations. It didn’t come from Dunn’s anti AD-HU rhetoric. It was me. I may not understand where it came from or why, but I know I killed her and no one is holding me accountable for it. I’m not being punished for anything. I should be thankful that I’m not rotting in a cell, but I’m not. I want someone to tell me that what I did was wrong. I think that would at least make me feel normal and a little more like everyone else. Everyone rationalizes it and tries to explain it… that almost makes it worse. And all of them are studying me like some sort of science experiment. They think they’re making everything better by handling me so gently. For a bunch of scientists, they’re a bunch of blind idiots who can’t see that they’re harming more than helping. 

  
  
  
  


I must have fallen asleep at some point because I feel Sebastian shaking my shoulder and there is blinding sun reflecting off the snow and in through the window. “Hmm, what?” I groan, squinting hard against the light. 

He rounds to the front of the armchair on my right and flops into it. “Did you sleep out here all night?”

I shrug, “For a little bit.”

“Was your bed not comfortable enough or something?”

I shrug again, “Just had a nightmare. Didn’t want to stay there.”

He nods, “Want to talk about it?” I shake my head. “You up for anything today?”

“I want to go for a walk.” The snow looks so inviting. I want to throw myself into it and disappear. 

“Did you pack for snow?”

“I always pack for snow.” My voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. “We got a lot of snow in 6-B. Meredith -” My voice catches. “Meredith, she loved the snow.” I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my forearms across them. “I lost Meredith in the snow.” That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. The first time I admitted that it was my fault. “I lost her and I killed that  _ Mer. _ ” I want to feel something. I feel like I need to cry, but tears don’t come. “If I hadn’t been so stupid… All of this is my fault.”

“Everett, Selene was ready to okay this mission at any time. What you did… that only made it take a different route.” 

“But I didn’t have to kill anyone for it to start.”

Sebastian sighs, “No, Everett, you had to kill someone. Selene needed to know what you would do when faced with a threat of life-or-death hanging over you. You were actually,” he swallows thickly. “Uh, you were actually supposed to kill me.”

My eyes widen, but my face otherwise remains impassive. “What do you mean?”

“When we met in the train station, it was supposed to be me you killed. You were supposed to be brought on assignment to the city outside the station, but ended up meeting me there.”

“That’s why I kept getting your file.”

“Yes. Selene made a show of destroying it because she wanted you to be even more determined to follow this assignment. She knew you would never be satisfied until you figured it out.”

“Why were you so ready to die?”

He pauses and out of the corner of my eye I see him wet his lips. “Everett, I’ve been alive for a long time and my life has... it has lost a lot of its meaning. My whole family is dead, I don’t have a life outside of Selene’s compound, and I was ready to do what I needed to make sure that every AD-HU after me lived in a better world.”

“You were gonna let me kill you,” I mutter. My mind is racing. Maybe me not killing him is the reason why he was so willing to extend friendship to me. He was probably nowhere near as ready to die as he’s telling me. 

“But you didn’t.”

I pause and let myself breathe for a minute. I have so many questions but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. “Are you… are you relieved that I didn’t kill you?”

He breathes in like he’s going to answer, but the breath hitches and he stays silent. I turn my head the slightest bit towards him and see that he’s staring straight forward, eyes wide. I know that look. He’s trying not to cry. He’s forcing himself to keep it together. “I don’t know.” He finally whispers. “I think so.”

Before I even realize that I’m doing it, I reach over to cover his hand that’s holding the arm of the chair in a death grip. The initial touch causes him to flinch, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. “It’s okay to be relieved,” I say softly. “No matter how hard we try to convince ourselves, we’re never really ready to die.”

His eyes finally lower and he slowly nods, “I know.”

“I suppose you shouldn’t feel bad about being thankful to still be alive. You’ve got the craziest second chance. Take it.”

He chuckles, the sound really no more than an excited exhale. “You should really take your own advice.” 

I finally let myself relax enough to smile, “Advice always sounds better coming from someone else.” 

Sebastian sighs and shakes his head and a few loose strands of hair fall forward to frame his face. “How did we get here? How did Concordia go so bad?”

“I don’t know.” There are a hundred reasons why Concordia has gotten so bad, but none of them will ever be good enough. None of them will ever be more than excuses. 

“We have the chance to make it better.”

“Yeah. Better.” 

Better. A funny word. Meaning something different to everyone who says it. 

Better. Not perfect. Maybe not even  _ good _ . But different and more tolerable than it was. 

Better. That might be the only word that distinguishes the good from the bad. The villains from the heroes. 

_ ‘At least we’re better than them.’  _

Better. A word that can start wars, but also bring about grand eras of peace. 

It’s just a word, but it’s a word that can do a whole lot of good and a whole world of evil. And that intention is based solely on who says it. 

Sebastian? I believe that Sebastian says it with every bit of goodness he has. Me? I believe I say better because I’m tired of living in the bad. My better doesn’t mean a whole lot, but it also doesn’t want to do harm anymore. I don’t want to be better than anyone except my past self. And I think I mean that. 

“Everett, you’re going to make it through this. It’s going to be a hard, terrible, long process, but I promise it will be worth it.”

I shake my head with a soft laugh, “I thought I was supposed to be the one comforting you for a change.”

I feel his hand shift under mine and his fingers gently close around mine. It’s the closest I’ve felt to someone in a long time. “You shouldn’t get to have all the fun.”

The peace that comes in the next couple of minutes is the most beautiful feeling I’ve experienced in my whole life. For just a little bit I’m able to shut off my thoughts and focus on the way the sun makes the snow sparkle. My heart has stopped racing. My stomach has settled. And I don’t feel like someone is going to jump over my shoulder and attack me. I don’t know what Sebastian did to make me feel this o.k., but I’m not going to complain about it. I just want to know how I can replicate this. How I can bottle this peace for when I need it most. 

“Did you still want to take that walk outside or do you want to wait until after breakfast?” Sebastian asks when he finally breaks the silence. 

I hadn’t even realized that it was close to time for breakfast. “What time is it?” 

“Seven thirty. That would give you enough time to take a shower and change before we went down. And breakfast can always be delivered here if you don’t feel comfortable going to the dining hall.” 

“I think I want to go to the hall.” For the past few weeks all of my meals have been taken alone and I think being able to be around larger groups of people in a normal setting is a good next step. “The walk can wait until after we eat.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you back out here in a half hour, yeah?” 

I nod, “Yeah.”

  
  
  


Twenty-five minutes later I am showered, dressed, and waiting close to the exit of the hallway. My hands are tucked deep in my pockets because that’s the only way I could get them to stop shaking. I sigh and wonder what’s taking Sebastian so long. I know I had taken a while because it was nearly impossible to button my shirt, but I don’t know about him. Right when I decide I’m going to check on him, I hear his door open and see him step out. His hair is in a loose bun and is pretty freely dripping onto his shoulder.

“Took you long enough.”

He laughs, “Yes, well, they try to do their best to fit the tubs to accomodate all tail sizes, but this one was a little snug.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

I shrug, “I guess I never thought about how you shower - or bathe.”

“It’s something we have yet to figure out a solution to. But, they’re close.” He tosses his head towards the hallway once he’s close enough to me and asks, “Ready to get going?”

I nod and turn just as he passes me, so I fall in step with him. We’re silent for the whole walk to the dining hall. All the walls are a boring white and there aren’t many… decorative items to force conversation. It’s only once we’re about five hundred feet from the hall that we finally hear a hum of voices. A set of glass doors stand between us and the hall, and my stomach tightens when I see at least fifty people milling about. Some have trays of food, some waiting before a service counter, and some are pouring drinks at a juice counter. Most are dressed in business attire covered in white lab coats. 

When we first enter I’m glad that the room doesn’t immediately fall silent. Seconds later, I wish that had been the case. As we pass through the tables, they fall silent, one by one. I feel stares boring into my back and there’s even more eyes searching my face, looking me up and down. It’s humiliating. I hate being watched like this. And, when I connect back with them, I realize one of the reasons why they’re all so stunned.  _ Felis _ . Their huge, golden irises look me over. Pointed ears poke out under hair. There’s a smattering of silver eyes and I recognize that their heads are swiveled one hundred and eighty degrees to look at me.  _ Aves _ . Only now do I remember that Selene almost exclusively employs AD-HUs. 

“It’s okay,” Sebastian gently whispers next to me. “They’re not used to having visitors.” 

I swallow a lump in my throat and have to force myself to keep it together. My hands are back in my pockets and I have to fight to keep my eyes raised. I don’t want them to know that I’m afraid of them and what they think of me. I know they aren’t staring at me because I’m an unexpected guest. No, this is a hateful, uncomfortable silence. They know and don’t like me. These people don’t work in direct proximity to Selene, so I won’t get the same leeway I had there. Any help they give is because it’s an order. Genuine help is not something I expect.

“Do you want to get out of here and eat later?” Sebastian leans in and keeps his voice quiet. 

I shake my head. My level of discomfort is well beyond normal limits, but I don’t want to back down. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m being treated any more special than I already am. And the hall is going to be just as crowded during every other meal. I have to do this now. I clear my throat and he leans away. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

I nod, “I am. Let’s keep moving, so these people can hopefully go back to their breakfast.” 

He takes a deep breath and, in a weird way, I find it a little reassuring that he is almost as uncomfortable as I am. From what I can tell there isn’t a single  _ Mer  _ in the room, so he is as out of place as I am. 

We are about to start towards the counter serving breakfast when I hear a voice call my name. A voice I almost didn’t recognize. I turn and see someone has risen from their chair and, when I raise my eyes, I recognize a face I hadn’t seen in a long time. 

  
  
  


_ The Dux stands behind a raised podium in the front of the room. She has a stack of papers in her hands and she is dressed for combat: hair tightly pulled back in a bun, black armored vest over a black jumpsuit, and - I can only assume - high rise combat boots. She shuffles the papers before her and clears her throat. “I am now going to announce the candidates who will be continuing into the final round of the Elite Training Program. Those whose name I do not call, please exit to your right. Any attempt at violence or aggression upon your exit will result in negative consequences. I do not wish death upon any of you, but I cannot stand for any unsanctioned violence against anyone in this room. Am I understood?” Silence prompts her to continue. “When I call your name, please step forward.”  _

_ She begins reading off names and I feel a hand slip into mine and squeeze it tightly. “I hope she calls our names. We’ve worked so hard.” _

_ I have all the confidence in the world that my name will be called. I passed every preliminary test with flying colors. I smoked the rest of the trainees at every turn. I deserve to continue training more than anyone in this room. I don’t say that, though, because I don’t want to sound too full of myself. “It’s okay, Kira. We both did exceptionally well in training.” She did an okay job, but I want her to know that someone noticed how hard she was trying. _

_ “Everett Shorey.” The Dux says my name and I almost faint. I squeeze Kira’s hand one last time and step forward, letting her hand drop behind me.  _

_ A few more names are called before the Dux says, “Kira Walters.” _

_ I think I hear Kira shriek a little as she excitedly steps forward. “I knew we would be in this together.” _

  
  
  


“Kira?” I ask, mostly to make sure that the person in front of me is really her. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, eyes narrowed and studious. 

“Um, recovery.” I can’t really think of any better answer, but it’s not like that’s a lie. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m the head of this facility. Dr. Quin, who you met earlier, is our lead researcher, but I facilitate all communication with the Dux and organize and oversee day-to-day operations.”  _ Okay, she calls Selene by her title. Good to know.  _

“I knew you would be the one to make it in The Elites.” I actually didn’t. I hadn’t had a lot of faith in her during our training. She spends a lot of time in her head thinking and planning, so that’s probably why she’s in an office and not in the field. 

Kira’s face remains impassive. “Are you settling in well?”

I nod, “Yes, thank you.”

“Please meet me in my office at eleven this morning. We have to discuss your stay here.” It’s not a request. It’s a demand. “And I expect it to be only you to be there. You don’t need your tail.” 

I’m not sure if she means ‘tail’ as a nickname or derogatory term for a  _ Mer  _ or if she means that I don’t need him following me everywhere. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Good. Enjoy your breakfast.” 

Once she sits, regular conversation resumes and our presence is seemingly forgotten. No one talks to us as we get our breakfast and find an empty table. Honestly, I would rather be ignored than observed like an animal in a cage. 

We are a little way into our meal when Sebastian asks, “The two of you have a lot of history?”

I finish chewing my bite of egg and take a long sip of orange juice to avoid the question as long as possible. Kira and I have an awkward history and I’m not even sure how to talk about it. The memories of her and Jenn were the first to come back to me with full clarity after Imna. I’m not completely sure what that means, but I think it means she was pretty significant at some point in my life. “Yeah, uh, I met her on the road right after Giulia died. I reconnected with her in training and then we went through it all together. She -” I clear my throat. “She obviously became an Elite while I… while I became… this.” 

“Elite training was before Imna took you?” 

I nod, “Yeah. Didn’t you know that?”

He shakes his head, forehead pulled down in confusion. “I thought it was the other way around. I thought Imna wanted you as an Elite to get her foot through the door.”

“No?” I don’t understand why he thought that. Selene made no indication she thought the timeline was in that order. “Why did you think that?”

“I guess it makes more sense than a  _ Venat  _ willingly wanting to join the Elites. That isn’t something I have seen before. It’s strange, is all.”

I nod. That’s a reasonable answer and there’s no reason for me not to trust him. “Makes sense.”

“Why did you think you had been rejected?”

“What?” That’s a redirect I wasn’t ready for.

“Why did you think you were rejected from The Elites?”

I shrug, “I don’t know.” I don’t know why it matters. That was so long in the past. There’s no reason to bring it up again.

“You had to think something.”

_ Why is he pressing this? It doesn’t matter what I thought.  _ “There were other good candidates. I thought I did something that upset her. Or I thought that some of the other candidates were slipping her monetary favors to let them in. I was angry for a long time about it and never thought it could have actually been my fault. But, it doesn’t matter anymore. I have more pressing issues to handle.”

He ignores my last statements and asks, “So, you don’t hold any resentment towards Selene about it?”

_ This is an interrogation. He waited until we were in public so I couldn’t get angry and lash out at him.  _ I set my fork down and finish off my juice. “I think I’m going to go for that walk now. It’s a little stuffy in here.”

“Want me to come with you?”

_ So you can push me even more?  _ I shake my head, “No, I’ll be okay. You probably have  _ other reports _ to focus on.” I stand and bring my dishes to the area indicated for washing and set them down in the window. I straighten my shirt and leave the hall, not giving Sebastian a second glance. I’m angry that he thinks he can manipulate me this way. Even worse, this conversation made me think that he only agreed to come along to keep an eye on me and report back to Selene. I think maybe he didn’t come as a friend at all. 

I run my hands over my face and stalk back to my room as quickly as I can. My chest is tightening and it’s hard to breathe. I need to get out of this place. I need to feel like I’m not being watched for at least five minutes. This is almost worse than Main. Different people, same stifling, judgemental sliminess. 

I get to my room and throw the door open, breathing heavily and feeling like my stomach is going to explode. I run to the bathroom and barely make it to my knees in front of the toilet before my breakfast comes back up. I grip the top of the toilet with one hand and the bowl with my other as every contraction of my stomach throws my whole body. I’m crying. I’m nervous. Anxious. Scared. Everything hurts and burns and I know I deserve it, but I want it to stop. When it finally does and there’s nothing left inside me, I flush the toilet and fall back against the wall. Bile drips down my lower lip and I wipe it away with the back of my hand, not caring what it gets on. 

I stand after a few minutes and step to the sink to wash out my mouth and splash water on my face. I avoid the mirror, knowing I would only hate what I saw. I stumble out of the bathroom and to where my bag is sitting on the ground at the foot of the bed. I kneel in front of it and take out my neatly folded winter coat. I had worn another one here, but the one in my bag is much warmer because it’s lined with fur. I pull it on, immediately comforted by the softness of the lining. Then, I put on my scarf, gloves, and hat. I stand and button my coat over my chest. I shove my hands in the pockets of my coat and leave, walking as fast as I can without running and drawing too much attention to myself. And no one stops me, so I figure it doesn’t matter that I’m stepping out on my own.

The moment I’m outside, the weight in my chest lessens and I can breathe again. The wind whips against my face, but it isn’t icy or bitterly cold. It opens my eyes and makes me feel alive. 

There’s a path to my left and I follow it for a while. I am surrounded by snow-covered evergreens and rock formations that mark my route. My boots crunch in the snow and the occasional snow dusting floats around me. It’s gentle, relaxing, and… freeing. All I can see is the open world around me; no one hunting, chasing, or expecting anything from me. 

I stay on the path for a little while longer before I tire of the boring, generic view of the woods that I’m seeing. I veer off to my right, immediately sinking into the fresh snow from last night. My boots aren’t nearly tall enough to keep the snow out, but I’m not all too concerned about cold feet. My hands come out of my pockets to push branches to the sides and shield my eyes from falling snow. 

A few minutes later and I decide I’m done walking. I let myself fall back into the snow, not caring that it instantly begins to melt and soak into my clothes. All I can really focus on is the way the cold reminds me of Meredith. I hated the snow and the cold when I first came to 6-B when I was eighteen. Giulia and I spent most of my childhood in southern Concordia, so the cold made me unbearably irritated. It’s, uh, it’s funny, I actually met Meredith in the middle of a snowstorm. I met her after I spent a year in 6-B and I’m pretty sure she was on a case when we met. No, she definitely was. I had gotten in her way during a chase. She barrelled me over, threw me right into a snowbank. Told me if I ever got in her way again she would kill me. I guess, yeah, the tables really turned on that one. 

Meredith was an important person in my life. Aside from being my partner in most of our cases, she kept me in my place. I had a huge ego - something I didn’t really realize until recently - and she kept me in check. I probably would have killed dozens more AD-HUs if she didn’t talk me down everytime; reminding me that killing without a case file would get me in a lot of trouble. She kicked my ass. Kept me in line. Made sure my anger didn’t get the best of me. She helped me learn how to cope. How to turn all my anger into something productive. 

I thought I was doing something good and that I was avenging people. Avenging my moth- Giulia. Meredith ensured that I didn’t get myself killed. Or that I didn’t kill myself. Looking back, that’s probably why she was so mad that I started getting all the credit instead of her. She saved my life and made me into a fully capable  _ Venat,  _ and suddenly I was running the show without even giving her a real thank you. I had no business being so cold to her, yet, there I was. Treating her like she didn’t matter and like she had never done anything for me. 

It really… it really doesn’t matter now, I guess. She’s dead and it’s my fault. Meredith helped me to channel my anger, but I didn’t let it go away. I let it fester. I let it get worse. If I hadn’t been so angry then maybe Imna wouldn’t have been able to get to me. At first I wasn’t… I wasn’t angry at AD-HUs. I was angry at myself for not being able to protect Giulia. I was angry at criminal AD-HUs, sure, but I never wanted to hurt innocents. Never. After being rejected from the Elites I was angry at Selene for a while and my self-hatred was renewed, but it wasn’t until Imna that I… that I actually… felt the need to slaughter. 

I don’t deserve to be free. I don’t deserve to be able to roam without guards following me. It feels wonderful, but this isn’t how it should be. I should be behind bars. They had the right idea putting me in that prison in 3-B. And that wasn’t even a real prison. All a ruse. All trying to get me to believe that, deep down, I’m a good person. Trying to shake my brain, reveal these memories, have me place the blame on everyone but myself. Selene had no business letting me come here. She should have denied my request. Murderers shouldn’t have rights. 

I think that when I talk to Kira I’m going to ask her to put me in prison, or the closest thing they have here until they can send me somewhere else. 

__

  
  
  


My boots squeak and slip against the tile floor when I reenter the building. I’m almost completely soaked through and my face is flush with cold, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I follow the signs on the walls that point me to the DIRECTOR’S OFFICE. I go up a few flights of stairs and end up on the top floor. I turn and head all the way down the hallway. I know it’s before eleven o’clock, but I figure Kira will be in her office because that’s where Selene would be and, if I remember correctly, Kira idolizes her. 

There’s not a guard in sight, which is what I suspected for a non-weapons facility, but it still sets me on edge. This doesn’t feel right. Nothing has felt right for a very long time now. The door is slightly ajar when I come up to it, so I don’t even bother knocking. I throw the door open, determined to make my stand and not back down. I don’t get the chance to say anything, though, because my world shatters the moment I recognize the second person in the room. 

I stumble backwards. I’m shaking. The world around me spins and it feels like my brain is being ripped apart. Like someone has taken a hammer to the back of my skull. I trip backwards and am unable to catch myself against the wall. I crash into the ground, shock jarring my whole body. My vision blurs and a memory flashes behind my eyes. 

_ “... my blindness is documented. No need to check my papers.” _

__ Nur.

  
  
  
  
  


END EVERETT SHOREY TAPE THREE


	29. Chapter 29

**JANUARY 21st - NIGHT**

I knew something was wrong the second I stepped into Selene’s office. She didn’t greet me. She didn’t even stand up from her desk. I sit across from her and she jumps immediately into business. “Avalyn, I need you to go to the Northern Cascade Facility.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Why?”

“I’m sending Everett there for the time being. He isn’t comfortable being here anymore and I think some time away from here is a good idea. Sebastian is going to go with him.”

“But?”

She sighs, “But, I don’t quite trust Everett, yet. I need someone to keep an eye on him.”

“Why can’t Sebastian do that?

“He only wants to see good things in Everett. As much as I respect that, I need someone watching who can see both sides. Who can report the good and the bad.”

“Doesn’t Kira run that facility?”

“She does. I’ve already sent word to her that you all will be arriving there within the next few days.”

“How do you want me to watch him?”

“Try to watch him in person as much as you can. Keep a low profile, don’t let him know you’re there. Talk to the other researchers in the facility, ask all the questions you need to. Kira will provide you full access to all of their surveillance equipment. Use it, but don’t rely on it.”

I nod, “Of course.” This assignment feels a little backhanded, but not any more slimy than anything I’ve done before. “Everett still can’t know who I am, right?”

“Right. Maybe by the end of his stay there he will be ready to know the truth, but I’m not confident in his mental state at the moment. There are too many unknowns. He has one or two good days in a row and then he shuts down. Screams through nightmares during the day and night. If something doesn’t seriously change while he’s in Northern Cascade… I’m worried I’ll lose him.” She clears her throat and finally makes eye contact with me. “But, if you feel that at any point it would serve him well to reveal your identity… do it. I trust that you know what you are doing.”

I nod again, “Of course. When do I leave?”

“The twenty-third. Six a.m., sharp. Go straight to Kira once you arrive. She’ll set you up with everything you need. I trust you to do this.” 

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

“I don’t have a radio connection into Northern Cascade, so any communication is going to have to come through a messenger. Let everything you send be of absolute importance. Tollin may be my fastest rider, but we shouldn’t run him to the ground.”

I nod, “Of course. I’ll go start to get myself together.” 

Selene nods silently and I turn from her office, closing the door gently behind me. I’m a little way down the hall when I really let myself process the debriefing. She doesn’t trust Everett and wants me to spy on him. That’s the last thing I expected from her. Until now she made every indication that she trusted him and was ready to make plans regarding the progression of her campaign. It’s possible that Everett asking to leave for a while caused her to re-examine everything she knew about him, but that doesn’t seem like a good enough answer. I suppose that I’ll have to watch him and find out for myself. 


	30. Chapter 30

**JANUARY 23rd - MORNING**

It’s about eight thirty when I walk into the facility. I can still hear conversation from the dining hall to my left, but I quickly veer to the right and take the stairs to the top floor. I spent a lot of time doing research regarding Avian bone density at this facility, so I am very familiar with the layout. 

The office door is open when I get to it, and I gently push it open to see Kira browsing through books along the back wall. She turns when she hears the door open and she smiles hugely. “Avalyn, welcome back. It’s been too long.” She rounds the desk and I step into the hug she pulls me into. “The Dux sent word you would be coming, but I didn’t know how soon that meant.”

I nod and pull back from the embrace, “I couldn’t believe it when she told me I was coming here. It’s like she read my mind and knew I was missing you.”

Kira laughs and affectionately squeezes my shoulder. “Stop, you flatter me. Now, come, sit. We can catch up a little bit, but we have some business to attend to first.” She gestures to the chair across from her own. “Take a seat. Get yourself comfortable. We have a lot to talk about.” She rounds to her side of the desk and I settle myself into the indicated chair. She blows hair out of her face and crosses her legs. “Av, can you tell me anything about what’s going on?”

I nod, “What do you want to know?”

“Why is the Dux even considering Everett? Why doesn’t she promote from within?”

She’s right to the point and I’m thankful for that. I don’t want to beat around the bush regarding this situation. “She trusts Everett. She thinks that he’s the least likely to defy her.”

Kira snorts, “Right. Everett, one of the most up-and-coming  _ Venats.  _ The most hotheaded person I have ever met. Are we sure the Dux is thinking of the same person?”

I shrug, “She thinks a lot of that is him hiding behind what Imna did to him and his fear of not being good enough.”

“We all have that fear. What Imna did to him is disgusting and inexcusable and tragic, but he’s not going to come around soon enough to help run a country.”

I raise an eyebrow. This is not the Kira I remember. Everett must have done something to her to make her so jaded, but I don’t know what. “Well, Imna fully manipulated and took control of his mind. There’s probably a lot of good underneath all of that.”

Kira shakes her head, “No. No, there’s not. Giulia gave him too much freedom. Probably didn’t discipline him. He’s all talk. The Dux is misguided to trust him.”

“What are you saying? What did he do to you to make you feel this way?”

“It doesn’t matter what he did. All that matters is that it’s true.”

“Yes, it does matter. The Dux has made her decision, but if there’s some serious conflict she needs to know about, then you need to tell her. Or, at least, tell me.”

“Av -”

“Kira, I’m not messing around. You need to tell me before your issue with him gets any more out of hand.”

“You’re being -”

“I’m not being ridiculous. If there really is an issue between the two of you, the Dux would rather know now before her decision is set in stone and you can’t solve your problems. So, what did he -”

“He cheated on me!” Kira blurts out, her face immediately flushing with embarrassment. 

“What? When?” That was not the confession I was expecting.

“We had a week off before heading into the final round of training and tests for The Elites and I went to visit him in 6-B only to find that he was with someone else. And when I mean with, I mean… with. He gave me the address to his apartment and I got to the door, heard all I needed to hear, and left.”

My eyes widened through the entire story, so I’m pretty sure I look like an owl once she finished. I never expected that from Everett. He always seemed more committed and responsible than that. At the very least, I never expected he would be caught. “I’m so sorry, Kira.” I feel bad for her and this might present a communication issue should Everett become Dux, but I can’t let it affect my judgement of him. Selene sent me here to monitor him and report what I find, not weigh what he does in the bedroom. “Do you think that’s going to interfere with your ability to work with him?” 

She shakes her head, “No. I never told him that I knew, so, where I might be a little less… trusting of him, it’s really only one sided, so there should be nothing to worry about.”

“You never told him you knew? Why not?” 

“What difference would it have made? He obviously had his mind made up, so telling him would have only made a bad situation worse. And right now, I’m not here to talk about my relationship issues. That can wait until I’ve had a few drinks in me on a Saturday night.” She sighs, “Can you tell me anything more about why Everett had to leave Main Facility? I never thought the Dux would let him out of her sight.”

I nod, “I didn’t think she ever would, either. But, she really wants him to recover and I think she’s also using this as a chance to see what Everett is like without her watching him.”

“Why did she send Sebastian with him?”

“For some reason Everett really latched onto him. The two barely spend time away from each other.”

“That’s interesting. Not really what I was expecting, but interesting. I didn’t even think that Sebastian was Everett’s type.” 

I roll my eyes, “I think Everett is mostly guilty about what he did to Sebastian. What he did to all AD-HUs, really. And it seems like Sebastian is the only one who isn’t coating everything in sugary shit. Sebastian holds Everett accountable for everything that he does, but he also knows that recovery is hard. I don’t fully understand it, but I don’t know how to question it either. That said, the Dux doesn’t think that Sebastian can be objective enough when reporting about their time together. Sebastian likes to believe that Everett has all this good in him and that everything he does and has done is forgivable. And where that can be good sometimes, he isn’t willing to accept that Everett has done some absolutely inexcusable stuff. He can’t see that.”

Kira takes a minute to consider what I’ve just said, but finally nods. The movement is slow, like she’s still processing. “That sounds like Sebastian. He’s so tired of being hurt and afraid that he’s willing to accept any bit of friendship out of someone. It’s depressing.”

“I know. And he doesn't believe that he deserves anything better.”

We sit for a second before Kira clears her throat and straightens in her chair. “Once we’re done here I’m going to have someone show you to the surveillance room. I’ll give you all my passcodes so you will have complete access. You’re under no obligation to report anything you find to me, but I would appreciate some occasional insight. I would like to know exactly what version of Everett that we’re dealing with.”

“Of course. This is your facility, you should know what’s going on in it.”

“Thank you for understanding that.” She stands and I follow her lead. “Now if you wouldn’t -” She abruptly pauses and I instantly realize why. Running footsteps slam against the floor and I turn just in time to see the door thrown open. 

My breath catches and I know that I’ve failed. Not even an hour into my assignment and I failed Selene. I’ve allowed Everett to see me and I can already see panic and confusion taking him over. His eyes are wide and he won’t look away from me. He trips backwards and falls, but he still won’t break eye contact. 

“Go to him,” Kira instructs.

I gulp, “What? No. No, I can’t.” 

“He’s already seen you. If we suddenly pretend that he didn’t, all of this will only escalate into something messy. Go to him. Make him feel more in control of what he’s seeing. He’s seen you. Now you need to be real.”

“But, I’m not Nur. That’s who he needs. He doesn’t need Avalyn.”

“Then be Nur. Or tell him the truth. It doesn’t matter. Go to him before he runs out of here and never looks back.”

I nervously lick my lips and curtly nod, “Okay. Okay, I’ll go to him.”

I slowly start out of the office, hands held up in a non-offensive surrender. I need him to know that I’m not going to hurt him. “It’s okay, Everett. I’m not going to hurt you.” He stays silent. His panicked breaths only increase my own anxiety. I stop a few feet from him. He doesn’t look afraid of me, but, with how intently he’s staring at me, I can tell that he’s trying to determine if I’m real. “Everett, I’m real. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” His mouth moves, but I don’t hear what he says. “What?”

“This is your fault,” he repeats. His voice is stronger than I had expected it to be.

“Why don’t we go somewhere and talk about all of this?”

He defiantly shakes his head, “I’m not going anywhere else with you. It’s your fault and I’m not going with you.”

“You can trust me.”

He laughs bitterly, “The last time I trusted you, you tore my life apart.” He starts to stand and I realize that anger and hate has replaced the confusion in his eyes. The way he stands, shoulders hunched and one foot planted in front of the other, tells me he isn’t afraid of me. He wants me to be afraid of  _ him _ . “Trusting you on the train was the worst decision I have ever made. I don’t  _ need  _ anything from you. Now?” He laughs again and I see something crazy in his eyes. “I can’t even close my eyes. And all because I wanted some company on a train.” 

I take a small step backwards. He sounds like he’s about to lose control and I know what his out of control looks like. “Everett, there’s something I need to tell -”

“That you aren’t Nur?” He cracks a splitting, disgusting, almost psychotic smile and takes a step towards me. It’s slow and deliberate. He’s challenging me. “Oh, I know. I fucking know. Sebastian wasn’t who he said he was and I figured that you were just as likely to be a liar.”

“But, you’ve reconciled with Sebastian.”

“The only thing I didn’t know about him was who he worked for. But, you? I don’t even know you.”

“I was only doing my job.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, well, job’s done, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? That twists my stomach and I want to run at him right then. “Everett -”

“No! You don’t get to control me anymore! You don’t get to know about me! Get the hell out of my life!” His eyes narrow as he glances over my shoulder at the office. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to talk to Kira.”

“That’s Elite Walters to you,” I snap, now very annoyed and tired of his attitude. He may be Selene’s son, but he hasn’t earned the right to talk down to people who actually earned their titles. Now I can understand most of Kira’s position. Everett is just going to waltz in and become her, and everyone else’s, superior without doing any of the work for it. There’s no real question as to why they’re upset. 

He rolls his eyes and that only causes my blood to boil. “I have to talk to  _ Elite Walters _ .”

Kira clears her throat and I hear her walk forward and stop when she’s a step in front of me. “Everett, Avalyn -”

“Avalyn? Christ.” 

Kira crosses her arms and adopts a wide stance. She doesn’t want to be challenged. “Avalyn is going to be spending some time in this facility under my direction. She is going to be present for our conversation.”

He frowns, “What?” 

I am equally surprised by this, but I figure it’s mostly Kira trying to keep Everett in his place. He needs to know that she’s in charge and will not be messed with. 

Kira nods, “Yes. I need to discuss the rules that will be in place during your stay. Doctor Quin only brushed over our basic routines, but, as they are not in the position to discuss safety and security measures, I am going to explain those to you now. So, we can either talk in private in my office or we can have this potentially embarrassing conversation in public where anyone can hear it. Your choice.”

His cheeks flush and I’m not sure if it’s from frustration or embarrassment about being told off. “Office.” 

Kira nods and turns to lead us back into her office. I stay back by the office door, while Everett follows her all the way to her desk. Kira offers him the chair, but he declines it. He needs to stand. He’s not going to give up the power that gives him. Kira sits, though, because she knows she doesn’t need to assert herself. 

She sits back in her chair and folds her hands in her lap. She’s relaxed. She may hate him, but she holds all the power here. “For starters, you will find that there is going to be an increased security around you during your time here. Quin maybe gave you the impression that you were free to roam as you wish, but that is not true. In the compound you may move freely within the accessible areas, but should you want to leave or go outside the compound for any reason, you will require an escort. So, there will be no more… escapades like the one you just came back from.”

“What?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re soaked through and I know you’re smart enough not to shower in your clothes. There will be security posted at every exit that will keep you inside should you resist their escort. They are authorized to use any and all force needed should you try and fight them. Am I understood?”

His fists clench, “It wasn’t like this -”

“Then, you should have stayed there. This is my facility, I run the show, and I don’t trust you. If you don’t agree to my terms, I will have someone watching you at all times. Frankly, I believe that is the better option, but I know the Dux wants you to have some space to yourself. So, what is it going to be?”

“Yes?”

“Yes what?”

He sighs, “Yes, I agree to your terms.”

“Excellent. You already know meal times and that meals can be sent to your room, but, be assured, I am not a fan of doing that. The best way for you to feel more normalized is by taking meals with everyone else. On that same note, we have some families here with younger children who participate in some low-grade self-defense training and I want you to attend those sessions with them.” She holds up a hand before he can protest. “I know your training is already much more advanced, but starting back at the beginning while surrounded with… non-threatening individuals may help get back in a right state of mind. These sessions are held every day at either nine to eleven in the morning or seven to night at night. I expect you to attend at least one session a day.”

“Are you authorized to make me do these things?”

“The Dux relinquished me full control of your recovery.” If that’s a lie, I couldn’t tell. Neither could Everett, apparently, because he doesn’t press her any further. “We have a few qualified psychologists on hand should you want to speak to anyone, but that is not required.” She pauses, mostly likely to see if Everett had anything else smart to say, but continues on when he’s silent. “Everett, I don’t want to have to be mean to you. My security officers, however, do not care. They uphold peace in this facility and will punish any disruptions to the fullest extent. They won’t kill you, but, believe me, they may get close. And, from all the chatter I’ve heard, they don’t like you already. I expect you to keep your head down, stay busy, and not cause me any extra paperwork. Am I right to expect that from you?” 

His shoulders rise and fall dramatically as he sighs, “I’ll do what I can. But -”

“No. No buts. I’m not telling you to take it if someone comes at you, but do not escalate anything. You’re in enough hot water. Do not make it worse for yourself. You may be in the Dux’s favor now, but enough bad reports and she will not hesitate to drop dead weight. Clear?” She leans forward. “I didn’t hear you. Am I clear?”

“Yes. Everything is clear.”

She sits back with a satisfied smile. “Excellent. You’re free to go. Attendance at those self-defense sessions begin tomorrow. Don’t let me down.”

Everett turns on his heel and stalks from the room, making uncomfortable eye contact with me as he passes. Once he’s back in the staircase, I hear Kira start to laugh behind me. 

I turn and make my way to the chair across from her and make myself comfortable. “What?” I ask with a smile and laugh of my own. 

She holds a hand over her mouth, trying to contain more laughter. “Oh my god,” she can barely get the words out because she’s laughing so hard. “Did you see how impressive he was trying to be?”

I kick my feet up over the arm of the chair and laugh, “He really thought that he was going to intimidate you. Out here asking all about the authority that you have. Did the Dux really give you full authority over his recovery?”

She barks a laugh and shakes her head, “Oh, hell no. But, he doesn’t know that and he wasn’t about to question me. And who is going to ask about it? Sebastian? He wouldn’t actually know anything if it hit him over the head.” Her laughter dies and she crosses her arms. “What was Everett’s deal when he saw you? That wasn’t what I expected at all.”

I shrug, “I don’t know. I didn’t know that he had… figured out it wasn’t me. I thought he was going to be angry or confused or… it was going to bring back some memories of something from his past. But, not for him to get so defensive and closed off. He wants us to think that nothing is wrong. That he’s in control.”

“Yeah, that was not the response I was expecting from him. We’ll see what happens in the next few days, though. As long as you stay in the offices and in restricted areas, you’ll be able to watch from afar and he won’t be able to get to you.”

I nod, “I’ll definitely do that.”

“I’ve got some work to get to, but I’ll catch up with you later this week, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe we’ll get those drinks on Saturday.”

She chuckles, “I like the sound of that. Keep me updated, okay?”

I stand. “Absolutely.”

“Stay safe.”

“I will.” 


	31. Chapter 31

**JANUARY 30th**

Everett is a mystery to me. A week of watching him and I still don’t understand anything that he does. He’s gentle and affectionate with Sebastian, but cold and distant to everyone else. He seems peaceful during the self-defense training sessions, but no one really interacts with him, so I don’t know how real that peace is. 

I don’t get audio on most of the cameras, but the audio I do get is heartbreaking. A lot of the time, Everett doesn’t know where he is. He’ll wander the halls for hours on end with no amount of recognition. This is the same guy who made it through The Labyrinth in less than a day, so to see him so lost and confused is concerning. It makes me wonder what could have disoriented him so much to make him lose all cognition and spatial awareness.

To make things worse, he doesn’t know  _ who  _ he is and he isn’t letting anyone help him. If someone tries to stop him in the hallway to help him back to his room or to calm him down, he pushes them away. He snaps. He shouts. Says he’s fine. Gets angry. Hostile. He keeps pushing and pushing, but he won’t let anyone pull him along. Won’t let anyone make things easier. Even Sebastian is just a temporary dressing. He isn’t actually helping Everett. Only making things better for the split second before they get bad again. And Everett keeps letting it happen. The cycle rolls over and over and over again. 

And really, we all know Everett is looking for someone to blame. At first, Selene and I thought he would blame Imna. Then, we thought he would blame Nur - or, me  _ as _ Nur. We theorized he might blame AD-HUs and become even angrier. What we never really considered was him blaming himself. There are more people who are  _ actually  _ responsible for the things that happened to him and that made him into the killer he was. But, trying to convince him of that would mean you had to successfully get past his mantra of: “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

True to his word, though, Everett has not instigated any violence. He’s faced his fair share of hostility, but people mostly avoid him. I’ve talked to a few doctors on campus and most of them want to make a genuine effort with him, but he’s been so unforthcoming and so ingenuine that it’s impossible. 

I met with Kira two nights ago for a few drinks in her office - which turned into more than a few - and the secrets she let spill stunned me, to say the least. I had been doing some of my own speculating about why Kira was really jaded following Everett cheating on her. Cheaters are assholes, but it felt like there was something else. And, oh god, oh my  _ god _ was there more. Kira was on her way to propose to Everett. She was going to take him to the fanciest dinner she could afford and pop the question. She found out later after keeping an eye on him that he had cheated on her with someone she wouldn’t refer to as anymore than: “Venat bitch”. I also got that “Venat Bitch” was a redhead, so I put together that it was Meredith who he cheated with. And that’s what really put the nail in his coffin. The cheating was a personal, moral, and alliance based betrayal. He ruined Kira and never felt bad about it. Never asked why she suddenly distanced herself. Never tried to explain himself. He just accepted her departure from his life and, from what she told me, that’s what got to her. 

She also told me a lot about what Everett was like after Giulia died. She said that he was numb to it all for a long time. He wouldn’t talk about it; had a blank stare whenever it was brought up. His hands always shook and he barely slept. When he did, he was plagued with nightmares. Kira said that Jenn came into his life soon after they settled in 6-B, but neither could really do anything to stem his pain. And the reason for all of that, according to Kira, is because he blamed himself. He didn’t blame AD-HUs. He didn’t blame the bystanders who sat and watched. He blamed himself for not recognizing the threat and not getting to Giulia in time to stop it. He wouldn’t pass the blame onto anyone else, so he could never get passed it. He could never realize that it wasn’t his fault. 

And that’s why he was so vulnerable to the  _ Venats.  _ He was looking to become a defender. He didn’t want to kill AD-HUs for the sake of killing them. No, he wanted to rid the streets of dangerous AD-HUs. He only wanted to get rid of those who “deserved it”. And, no one really “deserves it”, but that was his version of justice. 

Kira told me that the person who walked into this facility was the ghastly, nightmarish version of Everett that she was always afraid was inside of him. The version who let himself be taken over by other people’s ideals because he wasn’t - and isn’t - strong enough to believe in his own. 

Before I left for Northern Cascade, I had the chance to talk to Jenn about the transformation Everett had gone through. She broke down in tears almost immediately when she told me that he came back from Imna’s “re-education” not knowing anything but his name and age, and only barely recognizing Meredith and Stan. It took nearly two years before he could look at her with any sort of recognition. That’s why Selene had to send in Tommy. They needed someone close to Everett because Jenn wouldn’t be able to establish actual rapport with him for several more years. 

I never knew Everett, or even knew about him, until long after he had returned from Imna’s keep, so to hear how he was before hand really imprinted on me. It gave me so many answers and helped me fill out my idea of who Everett really is. From what it sounds like, prior to Giulia’s “death”, he was as normal as he could be. They moved around a lot and Giulia never had a stable source of income, but they managed and there was love between the two of them. After he lost Giulia, however, there was nothing. He lost the only love in his life and he placed the entire blame on himself. Guilt overran him and not even the compassionate souls of Kira or Jenn could do anything to convince him otherwise. Then, when he finally found love again through Kira, he abandoned it because he couldn’t stand the possibility of being alone. He never looked back because he probably never believed that her love for him was actually real. The  _ Venats  _ gave him a temporary outlet before he wanted more and sought out The Elites. Once rejected, he most likely hated himself again. His performance probably dropped and chances are that he even began befriending AD-HUs; if only for the sake of companionship. That’s the only way he could have attracted so much attention from Imna. And she certainly couldn’t allow him to behave like this. Not when he had boundless amounts of promise. She probably even found out that he was Selene’s son and convinced herself that the risk of taking him would be worth it. 

Selene may think she wants him by her side. I think that’s a mistake. A critical one. 

Everett may be able to be groomed into a leader, but he will never listen to her. I’m shocked he took any direction from Stan. Though, Everett rose to the top of 6-B in such a short amount of time that the only direction he took from Stan was what cases he was meant to follow. There was probably no other direction. At least not enough for him to rebel against. 

Selene needs to pull him away from the position of Dux. He won’t take orders, he’ll distance himself from her, and will probably lash out violently against anyone who questions him. I can only speculate, but from what I’ve observed and from what people have told me, I feel mostly confident that he will kill again. And the chances of him killing himself is very high. Suicide is the only was for him to ensure that no one tells him what to do ever again. He’s taking the ultimate control. 

That’s what scares me. 

That’s what we need to try and prevent. 

But, sadly, that’s the future I think we are all going to experience. 

  
  
  
  
  


_ 30th of January _

  
  


_ Selene, _

__ _ You probably expected to hear from me sooner, but I have been struggling greatly with the composition of this letter. I fear my conclusions may upset you.  _

__ _ Under Elite Walter’s suggestion, Everett has been partaking in the self-defense sessions provided at the facility which seems to be boosting his confidence. Unfortunately, that is the only positive I can see to be coming out of his time here. Everett remains close with Sebastian, but he is cold towards anyone else who attempts to reach out to him. He refuses to take any amount of suggestion or direction because he is afraid of being trapped under someone. I believe he is only respecting the authority of Elite Walters because of their previous relationship.  _

__ _ Selene, you trust me to be honest with you, so do not doubt me when I say that Everett is not, and will probably never be, ready to assume the Dux position. Especially at such a delicate time in our near future. There may be a different role for him to play in your plan, but Dux is a likely mistake.  _

__ _ As always, the final decision is yours, but this is the best report and suggestion I can give you.  _

__

_ I hope to hear from you soon.  _

__ __ __

__ __ __ __ __ _ Avalyn  _

__ __ __ __ __ __

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ 31st of January _

_ Avalyn - _

__ _ Thank you for your candid observation and report. I shall take it into consideration. _

__ _ I do hope to gather more information regarding his situation before making any final decisions, however.  _

__ _ Continue your surveillance and, as always, report anything you think I need to know. Don’t be afraid to report the negative. That is equally, if not more, important.  _

__ _ Hope to hear from you soon.  _

__ __ __ __ _ Selene  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  


I’m not sure how much I believe this letter from her. It’s straight and to the point, but she doesn’t seem phased by my assessment. It doesn’t seem to bother her that I said her son would never be capable of being the person she wants. So, whether she’s hiding something from me or she somehow came to the same conclusions herself, I will have to wait and talk to her in person to find out for sure. 

I know she was having her doubts before Everett left for Northern Cascade, but Selene has always been a ‘hope-r’. She believes that challenges and trials make people stronger. That they always come out better. She’s a lot like Sebastian in that way. She knows that there’s always a period of uncertainty and terror regarding that transformation, but she always believes that they will come out whole and better on the other side. She has a hard time dealing with people when they are not at their best and I think that’s what is happening now. She thinks that if she coddles and holds on tightly to Everett that he will magically be okay. As great and wholesome as that is, it’s not realistic. She may think she’s okay with Everett not being okay, but she’s not. I know how badly she wants this, but she needs to understand the gravity of the situation we are in. She can’t hope to become president and transition Concordia into a Federation if the person directly under her command doesn’t listen to or agree with her. 

At the end of the day, I’m only her counsel and she doesn’t have to listen to me. I hope this might be the one time she takes my advice and runs with it. I don’t want a little piece of ignored advice to be the reason that her plans go up in flames. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	32. Chapter 32

**FEBRUARY 3rd - Morning**

It’s been a week and a half since I revealed myself to Everett and, as far as I can tell, he hasn’t talked to anyone about it. The only real way to know for sure is for me to talk to the only person Everett would tell. And since he’s currently in self-defense training, I figure this is the perfect time to find and talk to Sebastian. 

I slip out of the surveillance room that has practically become my office and navigate through the hallways, careful to look down each one and around every corner in case Everett decided to leave his session early. I had no need to worry, though, as I easily make it through the maze of hallways and down a flight of stairs to the residential area where Sebastian and Everett are staying. Walking through the glass doors, I immediately spot Sebastian’s trademark messy bun peeking out from the top of a couch across the room. He has his back to me, so I’m able to cross the whole room before he notices someone is with him. 

“Everett, it hasn’t even been twenty minutes. There’s no reason to be back.” He doesn’t turn his head as he speaks. This must be a regular exchange between the two of them. 

I smirk, “I mean, I could go back, but I wasn’t learning much.” 

Sebastian is instantly on his feet and turned around. I hear papers fall and a pen clatter against the ground, but he’s too distracted to care. “Avalyn?”

I chuckle, “The one and only.”

He grins, “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here? Why didn’t I know you were coming?” 

In a strange way, him not knowing Selene’s plan makes me feel ridiculously powerful. This makes up for every other time I was left out. “What’s the point of doing surveillance if everyone knows you’re there?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Surveillance? I thought I was the only one reporting back to her.”

“She wants a second pair of eyes on the situation. And she knows the you’re busy trying to connect with him.You’re very close to Everett and she only wants to make sure she’s getting the whole story.” He purses his lips and I see his eyes narrow a little. He seems skeptical of my story, but I couldn’t exactly tell him ‘Selene thinks you’re too close to Everett and doesn’t believe you can report the whole truth’. I sigh, “Don’t worry about it. She trusts you. You just didn’t need to know that I was also watching him.”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

I ignore the question. There are more important matters than Sebastian’s bruised ego. “Has Everett’s behavior been off this past week?”

He shrugs, “He’s been a little more angry and closed off. A little pushy, too. But, it’s not out of control.”

“Is that aggression directed towards your or other people?”

“Mostly the doctors and other lab assistants. I figure he just doesn’t want all these strangers in his business. Is that so wrong?”

“Not necessarily, but he needs to be able to establish rapport with members of Selene’s staff.”

“What is this about?”

“Everett found out about me. I think that’s why -“

Sebastian slaps his hands onto his face and drags them down. “Of course that’s why he’s acting like this!” He’s exasperated, but not angry. He was looking for a way to explain Everett’s behavior and now he has it. “Now that he knows you were working for Selene and that you weren’t who you said you were. Now he can’t trust anyone because they may not be who they say they are. Did Selene say you should tell him?”

I shake my head. “No. He walked in on me and Kira in a meeting. He wasn’t supposed to know.”

“Why didn’t he tell me that he found you out?”

I shrug. I really thought he would tell Sebastian, so I don’t have an answer. “I don’t know. Maybe he thought if he told you, you would make him go back to Main. Or maybe he thought he could figure it out on his own.”

“He’s smarter than that. There has to be some other reason.”

“He might figure that people would only use trusting me as another excuse for what he did. Try to convince him that none of it was his fault because he was constantly being manipulated.”

Sebastian chews on his lower lip and nods after a minute of silence. “Thanks for letting me know all this. Do you maybe want me to bring it up? Without him knowing that I know you’re here, of course. Maybe just like ‘hey want to talk about Nur’?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. If his behavior doesn’t change, go ahead and ask. If he’s so afraid of trusting people, then we could have a problem.”

“He trusts me.”

“You and no one else. And, no offense, but that doesn’t mean much when Selene wants him to help run a country.”

He sighs and brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I know. It’s frustrating because I’m sitting here thinking he’s making all this progress only for him to turn around and snap at someone. Question why he isn’t allowed in certain places. He’s completely stopped seeking any help. He’s trying to… deal. But, there’s only so much I can do for him after a round of nightmares. If he had access to liquor, I’m sure he would go toe-to-toe with a bottle every night.”

My eyes widen a little. I hadn’t expected such honesty. I thought Sebastian was going to try and lie for Everett. Try and make it seem like Everett was doing such a good job and that his recovery was going so well. “What’s wrong?” His fingers have moved down and are now wrapped around the collar of his shirt, just like they always are when he’s upset or about to cry. “Sebastian, did he do something to you?” He meets my eyes and his are begging me not to ask again. “Sebastian, I need to know.” He slowly steps around the couch and into better lighting. In the dim light I had thought his face was just masked in shadows, but the light reveals deep bruising on the left side of his face. My breath hitches and I move to reach for him, but a slight flinch brings my hand back to my side. “What happened?” I can barely get the question out. 

His chin quivers and now there are tears pooling in his eyes. “I - I only suggested he take his breakfast here. He… he had a bad night and I didn’t want him to put himself through that. He - he thought I was - I was implying he was weak.” He takes a shuddering breath and his fingers tighten around his collar. “H-he had to prove - prove that he wasn’t.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Tell Quin or Kira?”

“An- and have them do what?” Sebastian shakes his head. “Th-they’d put him in a cell. That’s -” his voice lowers to a whisper. “That’s what he wants, you know.”

“What?”

“He wants them to - to cage him. Like an animal.”

I pause. Sebastian isn’t going to like what I’m going to say next, but he has to hear it. “Maybe they should.”

He jerks, completely taken aback by what I said. “Why would you say that?”

“He attacked you. He’s killed people. He’s dangerous. Maybe a little time in a cell would give him time to think. Time to be alone with himself.”

“He was alone. When he first came out of the Labyrinth. He attacked me and Jenn. Being alone lets him stew.”

“He didn’t know what he knows now. He was afraid and confused, and didn’t have all his memories. He attacked you because he was scared. This time, he attacked you because he is out of control. Listen,” I sigh. “I know that you care about him, but you need to consider what is best for him. You might not like the sound of it, but sometimes what you don’t like needs to happen.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one in charge,” he hisses. 

“Sebastian, why are you defending him? What could he have done to convince you that he’s suddenly this genuine, deserving person?”

“He is.”

I shrug, “Maybe, but not now. He’s aggressive, mean, uncouth. You’re the only one that he lets himself be real with. Why is that? Why you and not someone else?” He starts to bite on his lower lip and suddenly, I know. “Oh my god,” I whisper. 

“What?”

“You’re in love with him.”

His law drops and he shakes his head, “N-no. What? Why - why would you think that?”

“If he was just your friend, you wouldn’t let him get away with hurting you. You’re protecting him. You’re trying to convince yourself that he’s a good person because you don’t want to admit that you’re in love with someone like him.”

“Avalyn -”

“And I know your relationship history, Sebastian. Porter, Kent, Walsh. They weren’t good for you. They hurt you. And you let it slide because you just want someone to love you. You don’t want them to leave you.”

“Stop it,” he mutters. 

“Seb, you have to know that this is dangerous.” My fingers jabs in the air at him. I should feel bad about the accusations I’m making, but I’m not going to let him throw himself away for Everett. “You have to know that you deserve better than this. What is it going to take to convince you of that?”

“You don’t need to help me. I can take care of this on my own.”

“Sebastian, this isn’t healthy. You’re allowed to love him, but you need to put that love into action by getting him help.”

“Get out,” he growls. 

“You’re only hurting him and yourself.”

“Avalyn -“

“What, Sebastian?” I shout. “You’re not going to convince me that this is okay! You’re enabling him. Practically telling him that everything he is doing is okay. He can’t reconcile his past without cleaning up his present! He won’t push himself to confront his demons because he knows that he can get away with hiding and burying everything that he’s going through!” 

“So, this is my fault?” 

“You’re certainly not helping!” 

His eyes narrow and his hand clenches so tightly around his shirt that I think he’s going to tear it. “So, treating him like a real person is a bad thing? We shouldn’t treat him like an animal. We have to show him that we’re better than that! That we’re better than everything he thought and everything he’s been through!”

I square my shoulders and shake my head, “He has  _ slaughtered _ dozens. Even if we don’t treat him like an animal, we have to make him realize that he acted like one, so he can process it. If he wants to be punished then maybe we should punish him! But, letting him ignore it? Letting him think it’s okay to take out his anger through violence? That’s not okay. That’s not how we solve this.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“You know he isn’t taking care of himself! You know he would drink himself to death if he could! What about that do you think you can fix? You’re not a miracle worker, Sebastian.”

“And you are?”

“I’m not saying that! I -”

“Avalyn, you’ve said enough. Get out of here. Go back to the little hole you were hiding in. Stop pretending that you know  _ anything  _ about what’s going on!”

I take a step back as his words punch into me. “I’m sorry I -”

“No, you’re not,” he spits. “Leave me alone before you really are.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ 3rd of February _

_ Selene,  _

_ Sebastian’s extended stay around Everett is beginning to make him unstable and I no longer believe that it is wise to keep the two of them together.  _

_ According to Sebastian, Everett regularly requests to be imprisoned so he can ‘pay for his crimes’. Based upon the aggression and anger being displayed by Everett, I think we should grant that request. It may not seem like the desired solution, but Everett is not going to allow himself to confront what he has done unless he feels his crimes are being acknowledged and that the proper punishment is being carried out.  _

_ In addition, I know of at least two incidents in which Everett has lashed out towards Sebastian. I believe there will be more if we don’t take immediate action. I believe his attacks may extend beyond Sebastian if given enough time.  _

_ Please consider this proposal and reply as soon as possible. I need to know how to proceed.  _

__ __ __ __ _ Avalyn _   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ 4th of February _

_ Avalyn,  _

__ _ I want them to spend at least one more week in their present arrangement. If nothing changes or you see it getting increasingly worse, write to me immediately and I will see to finding a new arrangement. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.  _

__ __ __ __ __ _ Selene  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


END AVALYN TAPE TWO

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	33. Chapter 33

FEBRUARY 3 rd

In the back of my mind, I know I’m being irrational. I know that there’s no explainable reason as to why I feel the way I do. It’s just… how it is. I can’t question it because I don’t know how to come up with solutions to my problems. What I know is that I’m not okay with dehumanizing someone. That’s… that’s not me. I would rather do anything else. I would rather just end the problem altogether then let them suffer. 

What I agree fully with, though, is that I need to have a stronger hold on Everett. He’s getting out of hand, I admit that, but I think he needs to come to terms with what happened in an open, non-threatening setting. Coming to in a jail cell would only scare him and close him off. Let him wallow and stew in his misery. I think that’s really dangerous. I think that’s absolutely a mistake. 

Did I let him attack me? No, no. Of course not. He surprised me. I fought him off and it’s not my fault that Avalyn didn’t ask how I retaliated. She’s the one who doesn’t have all the information and, honestly, I’m mad that she decided to make so many assumptions. Some people aren’t meant to be continually sent on special assignments. That kind of shit goes to your head and can really make a person quite undesirable. She thinks she has all this power. All this right to be telling me what to do. But, she’s not the Dux. She can’t make any decisions and I’m very content in that knowledge. 

Do I love Everett? God, I knew you were going to ask that next. That’s a question I can’t really give you a good answer to. At this point I don’t know if I would call it  _ love,  _ but more of a ‘I think you’re really hot and wouldn’t mind having a little more fun with you’ kind of feeling. I know that makes me sound like an adolescent boy, but that’s about the most coherent answer you’re going to get. It isn’t fair of me to say “I love him” because he isn’t in a stable enough headspace to consider that kind of attraction. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	34. Chapter 34

**FEBRUARY 7th - NIGHT**

Everett has been having a particularly bad day. He missed both self-defense sessions and has tried to pick fights with several doctors and guards. Anything that will get his adrenaline going. He stormed through the hallways with no particular destination, muttering about how he needed to get away. And, for the first time since he took his initial walk through the woods, he tried to go outside. He tried to escape. Four guards hauled him back into the facility, twisting and writhing like there was something possessing him. There aren’t any holding cells in this facility, so they locked him in a storage closet down the hall from Kira’s office. She called me into her office and it made me physically upset to listen to his screams, his pleading, and his fists pounding against the door as he sobbed. I thought for sure that my sanity was being stripped out of my body one fiber at a time. 

“Sebastian,” Kira snaps, forcing my attention to her. “I know you don’t like this, but it’s our only option. Everett is too out of control. He’s dangerous. He is a threat to not only himself, but to the rest of this facility. Continuing to defend him will only make the situation worse.”

“Have you ever tried talking to him? He’s trying to figure this all out. Throwing him back into prison is only going to make things worse!”

Kira rises from her chair, hands flat on the desk in front of her. “Do  _ not  _ raise your voice at me. I am going to make an official recommendation that Everett is held in a controlled, protected environment. He is then to be monitored at all hours of the day to ensure he is getting the care that he needs. You are not to question my decision or the Dux’s. If you do, I may recommend that you are placed in the cell next to him. Is that what you want?” Her eyes narrow when I’m silent. “That’s what I thought. Take him back to your rooms and pack your things. I want you both out of this facility. He is compromising the progress of my workers and that is completely unacceptable. I want you gone by tomorrow morning. You’re dismissed.” 

“Kira -”

“Dismissed!” 

That sends me scrambling from my chair and out of the office. When they see me coming, the guards back away from the closet they’re holding Everett in. I pull the door open and my throat closes when I see Everett huddled in a fetal position on the ground. His eyes are squeezed shut and his hands are clapped over his ears. 

“Everett.” I kneel slowly and place a hand on his shoulder and he stays shockingly still. “Everett, it’s okay. They’re gone. It’s just me. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” The muscles in his back relax, but his eyes stay closed. “Everett, I’m right here. I need you to open your eyes for me.” Finally, his eyes start to open. “They’re gone. It’s just me, I promise.” His eyes open all the way and his hands start to come away from his ears. “That’s it. I’m right here. Take your time.” I notice he’s having some difficulty breathing, so I move my hand to his back between his shoulders. “Take a deep breath. I’m right here with you. You don’t need to be afraid anymore. I’ve got you.” He inhales shakily, but his release is much easier. “There you go. Do you think you’ll be able to stand?” He nods after a minute of stillness. “Good. I’m going to help you up. Is it okay if I hold you under your arms?” He nods again and I scoot so I am behind him and bring my hands around his back. He braces himself against me and I feel his muscles clench. “On three, okay?” A third nod. “One, two, three.” I grunt and stand, tightening my hold around him to bring him to his feet. He wobbles for a second, but gains his bearings and slowly pulls away from me. “Are you okay?”

“They want to put me away,” he mutters. His voice is hoarse from all the screaming. 

I sigh, “I know. But, that doesn’t have to happen. Selene -”

“She should. You know she should. That’s what’s best for everyone.”

I shake my head, “No, come on. You know that’s not true. We can figure something out.”

He laughs mockingly. He doesn’t believe that for a second and it hurts that I can’t convince him. “Sebastian, I appreciate that you’re trying, but I’m… I’m… you can’t anymore. You can hold my hand and tell me it’s okay all you want, but that’s not enough anymore. I don’t know if it ever was.”

That hurts. I thought I was doing so much good. I thought we were making so much progress. Apparently I was just wasting our time. I know I shouldn’t think like that, but… I don’t know. I feel betrayed that that’s how he feels. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He shrugs and shakes his head, “I don’t know. I’m not right, I’m not okay, and I don’t know how to make myself either of those things.”

“And you think being alone with your thoughts is going to help?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why do it if you think it might hurt you?”

“It also might help me. We have to try.”

“You know I’m not okay with this.”

He steps forward and sighs, “I know. But, I’m not asking your permission. So, just let me do this. Let me figure this out on my own.” He walks out of the closet and to the stairs. He struggles to walk in a straight line, but he makes it with no help. 

I step out of the closet and close the door with a sigh. I respect that he wants to make his own decision, but I think he’s making the wrong one. I think he’s making a terrible, life-ending mistake. If he goes to jail, he isn’t going to make it out with any shred of sanity. He’s going to be lost in there and he may come out only to hurt more people. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I know I’m not going to let them throw him into a cage. 


	35. Chapter 35

**FEBRUARY 8th - MORNING**

I feel like I’ve let the world down as we walk towards the Main Facility doors. Everett is worse than when we left and I couldn’t even finish Selene’s report. I’m a mess. I’m… I’m a failure. The armed guards inside the glass front doors make me want to vomit. I want to run and hide my face. I’m angry, tired, and humiliated. Selene only took me under her wing because she pitied me. And I think I’m finally proving to her that I have no promise. 

There’s nothing for me to lose. Nowhere further for me to fall. So, I had to make a decision. 

Selene comes to the main doors and, when she exits, I see her smiling. Smiling at Everett like she doesn’t know that what she is about to do to him will quite possibly kill him. Like she doesn’t know that he’ll probably kill himself in that cage she is going to throw him in. Like she doesn’t know that her entire world is about to come crashing down. 

A weight drops into my hand and the world seems to stall as my fingers press against cool, sharp metal. I reach my empty hand out to stop Everett who is a step ahead of me. I turn him towards me and I can feel an empty smile on my face. I tighten my hand on his shoulder and pull him in for an embrace. Just as our chests meet, I bring my hand up and feel the knife slide deep into his stomach. I didn’t realize how much pressure was needed to cut through muscle. His gasp is barely audible in my ear, but his choking that soon follows is loud. Loud enough that Selene hears. Loud enough that she calls the guards. Loud enough that it sounds like Everett is going to die right there in my arms. 

Tears spike in my eyes, but they’re not pained. They’re not sad. They’re hopeful. I’m saving Concordia from the terror that Everett would become. In captivity, Everett would have experienced a fate worse than death. He would have become the true monster Imna was trying to make him. 

His blood coats my hand and I feel it warm and wet as it stains my own clothing. I don’t know if I’ve hit anything vital, but I can only hope that I have. I can only hope that he will die quickly. 

I feel arms wrapping around me, trying to pull me away from him. I know Selene is screaming at me and I can only guess that tears are marring her usually expressionless façade. 

The last thing I am able to say before I am ripped away from him is a quick whisper in his ear. The softest of sounds that only he can hear. 

“I love you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


END SEBASTIAN PAOS TAPE THREE


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